Twenty Years
by Lady Mythology
Summary: Elena knows the sire bond isn't real. Now she just needs to prove it to everyone else, especially Ric... and Damon. And she has a lot of growing up to do along the way: touring Europe, meeting new people, and befriending witches. AU. Inspired by Ernesto Riley.
1. The Blink of an Eye

I have a 100K+ story I'm working on. This is in the same AU, but it still should make sense. Mainly ignores most of season four (no Silas) as I haven't seen season five.

Elena overhears Alaric talking to Damon. Instead of making Damon choose, Elena makes the decision for him: she leaves. Elena thinks the sire bond isn't real; now she just needs to prove it to everyone else.

Inspired by Ernesto Riley. Don't own his idea, don't own TVD.

* * *

"I'm looking to go to Rome. I see you have a flight in three hours. Do you have any seats left?" I leaned in and compelled the question.

"Sweetie." I pulled back, trying to keep a slight smile on my face. I could keep a straight face for hours, and the lack of flinching was always a giveaway. Trying to keep a little smile helped a lot. Then I noticed her eyes change. "That won't work on me."

"My apologies."

"But I do have a ticket."

"Really?"

"Do you have a passport?"

"No."

"Who are you running from?"

"No one. I'm nineteen. I'm going to look like this for ages. Figured, what's the point of a passport?"

"You thought you'd just compel your way through?"

"Not the whole way. I'm paying," I said, holding up cash. "Cash is a lot harder to track than credit."

"You have a lot to learn."

I thought back to Damon. "I know. That's why I'm trying to leave."

She looked at the clock, and then called a coworker over.

"Come on." I hesitated. "You're trusting your instincts. Good. I'll be right back."

I hid, in the shadows, but she came back a few minutes later in street clothes. Eventually, I came forward.

"I could still feel you." I looked up at her. "Didn't know where, but I knew you were still here."

"I didn't know you could do that."

"Not everyone can. How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"No, I-"

"No, I mean, _nineteen_. I was turned less than four months ago."

"Wow. You really are new. Come on. Different airline."

"Why?"

"I'm constantly lacing my coworkers with vervain. You know. Temptation and all."

I looked around the bustling airport. "You're telling me."

"You sure you're ready for a flight this long?"

"Yes."

"Are you-"

"Yes. I'm human-hungry."

"You can tell the difference?"

A man a little taller than me passed by. He was in dark wash jeans, a black shirt, black boots, black leather jacket, dark hair, but looked nothing like him. "Yes. I learned from the best."

"And?"

"Long story."

"Need a partner in crime?"

"Why?"

She laughed, and shrugged. "I'm bored. I could use a change of pace. I've been here long enough. You seem fun. Take your pick."

"Elena."

"Lisa. See if you can snag us two tickets to Rome, Elena. I'll be your backup if you screw up."

I walked up to the next spot.

"Hey. I see you have a flight to Rome in a few hours."

"All sold out."

"Really." I compelled.

"Well."

I hadn't compelled much, more of a feeling, but I heard the hesitation and prodded. "You don't have… anything?"

"I do."

"But…"

I still wasn't compelling, much. On purpose. "No, you're right. We'd rather have a full plane." He looked confused.

"You don't have to talk it out. But. If you _do _have two tickets available…"

"Yeah. Sure."

"My friend can go first." She handed over her ID.

"No luggage?"

"No, sir," she said, holding up her bag. "Just my carry on."

"And yourself?"

"Elena Sommers," I said, handing over a blank piece of plastic. "You see my address on there." I glanced at Leila and smirked. "Say it."

"One twenty three fifty four South Lovers Lane." She looked impressed. "Hey. Coincidence. We have the same birthday. Different year, obviously."

"Thank you." I took our tickets. "You have been an immense help."

"You're welcome. Please. Have a nice day."

As we were walking towards the stairs, she said, "You're only four months old?" I smirked. "I _am _impressed. Now I want to know who your teacher was even _more_."

I paused at the top of the stairs. "Do you believe in the sire bond?"

"In… _all _my years, I have yet to see it. So, no. But I have heard of it."

"Everyone thought – _thinks _– I'm sired to him."

"You believe otherwise?"

"In my last dying moments, I asked a vampire to save my friend. At that point, I accepted death. I seriously didn't want to be a vampire. There was no gratitude that everyone speaks of."

"So you _are_ running from something. Some_one_."

"I'm sorry, but I'm hungry. I have to eat." Another person walked by. "They all smell so good. That's my problem. But I'm _full_." I looked at her. "There's just this naked ache in me. My teacher, as you call him, told me that's just human hunger. So. I need to eat, or I overindulge in other… food types."

"Blood."

"Yeah."

"What do you want?"

That one looked like Bonnie. "A hamburger. That was my favorite food."

"Great. This way. Only one burger place that's worth it, here."

"Thanks."

A girl with red curls walked by. She was a head shorter than me, and that put her at the perfect height to smell. I hurried the other vampire along.

"Hey, Lisa."

"Can my friend and I get a table, Roy?"

"Yeah, sure. Take that one in the corner. Can I get you anything to drink, first?"

"Coke."

"Water."

"Great."

We were only sitting down when he was back. "I know Lisa's here for a burger. How about you, sweetheart?"

"Hamburger."

"How do you want that?"

"Medium rare. With ketchup. Pickle on the side. An order of fries." I saw a dessert menu but passed it up in favor of the server. "What kind of pie do you have?"

"Peach and apple."

"No key lime?"

"Sorry, love, but no."

"I'll pass, then."

"I'll put your order in and be right back with the fries."

When he walked away, Lisa said, with humor, "Medium rare?"

"Habit." I smiled weakly. "I liked pink in my burgers. Can't seem to shake it. And he didn't even take your order."

"I'm here _all _the time."

"Right."

"Fries, ladies. Your hamburgers shouldn't be long." I looked around the rather packed restaurant. "Hey. Lisa tops the serving order. Consider yourself lucky."

"Thanks." When he left, I asked, "Is he-"

"Not on vervain, not compelled. Just a friend."

"A human friend?"

"A human friend."

"Don't mind me shoving these fries." I had to start eating. The server smelled alright, but there was a lady a few tables away who smelled delicious. "So. Lisa. How old are you?"

"It's never polite to ask someone's age, Elena."

I went back.

'_It's never polite to ask someone's age, Elena.' 'Seriously, Damon. When do you turn one hundred and seventy?'_

_Twenty-four going on one hundred and seventy._

_'Dating rules and guidelines.' Damon's snort and eye roll were right before me, too. 'Subchapter. After a hundred years, you no longer feel like a pervert dating eighteen year olds.'_

"Elena?"

"Sorry."

"You, uhm. Shouldn't stare off holding a fork, next time."

I relaxed my hand and looked down at the mangled fork. "I forget."

"I'm twenty five." I met her eyes. "I've been twenty five for three hundred years. After a while, it just doesn't matter, anymore."

_'__When you're pushing into your eightieth, ninetieth years, birthdays get real old, real fast. And when you're one hundred and sixty nine? It just doesn't matter, anymore.' 'It matters, and you know it.'_

"It matters." And you know it.

"February second. Sixteen forty. A small, small town in what is now Germany. My father pissed off the wrong person. He fed me his blood, and killed me over and over and over. Until my father finally passed. And then I killed him. I had no one to teach me. I can't go more than a day without blood, and that's if everything's going well. Stressful days, I need to eat every few hours."

I thought about my life the past two years but couldn't figure out how to sum it up. "I love him, sire bond or not."

"Then why leave?"

_.  
"Elena has a lot of growing up to do, Damon."_

_"I know that, Ric."_

_"I don't think you do. She's eighteen, Damon. She has her whole life in front of her. If you love her, you'll let her go. If you don't, it doesn't matter if she leaves. And if it is love, five, ten, twenty years won't make a difference – in vampire years."_

_"Would you be saying differently if it were Stefan that she loved?"_

_"No, Damon. You're both good for each other. All I'm saying, is, twenty years, to you, is the blink of an eye."_

_"The blink of an eye…"_

_I walked away. I didn't need to hear more. Not from Ric. Not from Ric or Damon and Stefan or Caroline or anyone._

_I made one stop, before I left. _

_My bedroom. Our bedroom._

_His bedroom._

_I laid my necklace next to the sink and took an old tube of lip stick out of my purse. I wrote on our mirror – his mirror._

_The story of life is quicker than the blink of an eye.  
The story of love is hello  
Goodbye  
- Maybe I'll see you in twenty years. x_

.  
"Why not?" The boy brought our hamburgers out. "Thank you."

"Why not?" She sounded confused.

The burger was _amazing_. Now that my stomach was filling up, the lady a few tables over just smelled good, not like I wanted to kill her. Dull. Achy, but not necessary. But still desired. I kept eating.

"I love him, sire bond or not," I repeated. "But nobody believes it – his brother, my friends, my step-dad."

"So you're running. Away from a man you love. Because of what everybody else thinks."

"I'm not running."

_'__Elena has a lot of growing up to do, Damon.'_

"I'm growing."


	2. Nino

"Sun's up, in a few hours." It felt _good _to stretch in the lobby. "I need to find somewhere to spend the night."

"Why?"

"Hello? Suckiest part about being a vampire? Sun?" I looked down at my ring. "Are you a _day _walker?"

"I have a daylight ring, yes."

"_Really_."

"I know a witch." I looked around the lobby. I was _hungry_. "Knew. I knew a witch."

"Lucky."

"I need to eat."

"Maybe I'll run into you, one day."

"What do you mean?"

"Have fun exploring Rome, Elena. I know when I'm not wanted." I opened my mouth to reply. "Or needed. I'll see you."

"Maybe."

"I owe you a plane ticket, remember."

I smiled. "I won't forget."

When I turned, she was already gone.

I walked around for a while, still inside the airport, and finally came around some kind of convenience store.

"Do you speak English?" I asked the lady running the register.

"Yes."

"Do you accept American money?"

"No, ma'am."

"Know where I can exchange some?"

"There is an office, near the entrance. But here." She pulled a little book out from behind the counter. "Take this."

"Thanks."

"Prego."

I started with twenty five hundred dollars and ended up getting little more than eighteen hundred euros. The exchange rate bit me.

"Grazie," I said, when she decided to wave the exchange fee.

It was still dark, when I left.

I slunk into a dark alleyway, not seeing anything, and waited until someone passed me in my shadow.

I tasted, but she was clean. No vervain. I drank just enough, and made her forget. Ever since the council laced the water with vervain, I was nervous about strangers and vervain.

Then I traveled west. I took buses and taxis and hitchhiked until I reached the coast. It took me all day and into the night. I was pointed to a hostel.

I woke up hungry and grungy.

I walked around and paused at every shop, using my little book.

Grocery. Food. Drink. Bank. Clothes. Breakfast. Lunch. Coffee. Tea.

Room.

Rent?

I went up and knocked on the door.

I looked okay; I just felt gross.

I repeated the words on the sign to her, probably butchering them, but she nodded. "For rent?"

She led me down a little hallway, not wide enough to be legal in the US, and to a little room. It had a little bed, a little couch, a little table, a sink, an under counter fridge, and a two burner stove top. The bathroom was just as little.

But clean.

'How much' was too complicated. "Costo?"

"Settanta."

It was hard to remember the numbers. Seven. Seventy? I gave her a fifty dollar eruo note and a twenty. "Settanta?"

"Sì."

I looked up the word for towel and almost cried. I showed it to her.

She held up her hand. "Cinque."

I gave her five more dollars. She left and came back with my towel.

And a key. Two keys. One for my door, the other for the outside door.

"Grazie."

She nodded and walked off.

Grocery.

I didn't need food, but I needed toiletries. Shampoo and conditioner, soap, toothbrush and toothpaste, sunglasses.

Another shop, without a sign, and it had clothes.

I got a pack of underwear and socks, another skirt and shirt, a new pair of shoes, and a pair of shorts. Just like in the grocery store, she tried to tell me how much. She gave up, frustrated, and showed me the total.

"Grazie."

Showered, and in clean clothes, I felt much better.

It was _warm_.

Hot.

_Nice_. It meant I was normal temperature. But it also meant drinking a cold drink would make me colder, so I opted for a coffee.

I sat at a table outside, watching people for hours.

A boy, across the street at a restaurant, caught my eye. He was blonde, with a strong jaw, high cheekbones, and tan, tan skin.

He couldn't stop looking at me, either.

I got up, walking around again. I made my way down to the beach, and sat on a low wall, watching the sun set. It was… beautiful.

After dark fully set, I waited another hour before sneaking out. I followed a map to a hospital. I only had to compel two men, and I let my nose lead me to the blood bank. I drank one, right there, and disposed of it. I took three more, then a fourth. Back at my little place, I put them in dark water bottles. Not as good as the real thing, but it'd have to do. I wasn't planning on staying in Italy long enough to learn how their law system worked, and the language barrier would always suck.

-x-

I woke to a very annoying knocking.

It was the landlady.

Very annoying. I got up, and opened the door, but I had no idea what she was saying.

"She wants your towel." I looked around her to a little boy.

"Oh." I traded the used one for a clean one. "Uhm. How long do I have my room?"

They exchanged words. "One more night. But Nona says you can have it for the rest of the week for another seventy dollars."

I got her the money.

"How old are you?" I asked the little boy.

"Six."

"And you speak English and Italian?"

"And Spanish."

"Wow. Do you know any good ice creams places?"

"There's good gelato down by the beach!"

"Thank you. Grazie."

"Prego." He looked back at Nona. "I have to go."

The whole exchange took less than two minutes. It was still early, but I couldn't get back to sleep. I had some breakfast, not the human kind, and showered again.

I grabbed a human breakfast at the same coffee place, and then walked around again. I bought a flower, for my hair, and visited a little library. I toured an old church, but when I went to get gelato, I couldn't find it. I picked up a cup of coffee, and saw the server across the street again.

The next day, I was up and ready to change my towel for a new one.

I paid for a boat tour, and was really glad I did. We didn't go far, but it was a full day thing.

Blood bags weren't cutting it, but I was making due.

I got my coffee, the next morning, and then visited a street market.

I loved people watching, but it also told me that you don't touch food, you ask the person. And you don't tip.

I took my apple to the beach, and watched a lady paint.

Then I wanted lunch.

I took a somewhat daring move, and had lunch at the place across from my coffee shop.

I wasn't used to the late lunch, even though I didn't have to eat.

All throughout lunch, the waiter and I kept exchanging glances, but he was not the one serving me.

I lounged against the wall, after lunch, and waited.

Eventually, he came out.

"Ciao."

I looked over to the boy. "Ciao."

He started speaking in Italian, and then changed his mind. "I'm Antonino, but my friends call me Nino."

"Nice to meet you, Nino." He smiled. "My name is Elena."

"Elena. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

"Thank you."

"You are not from around here, are you?"

"No. Just passing through."

"Do you want to grab dinner, tonight?"

You smell too good, I wanted to say. Run. Run, run, run. "That'd be really nice."

"Really?" He sounded surprised.

I smiled. "Yes. My plans are beach, beach, more beach, and finding some good gelato."

"I know a little place. I could… show you." He smiled. "Now, if you're free."

"Are you?"

He started walking and I followed. "What brought you to Italy?"

Salvatore. When I decided to leave, Italy was the first place I could think of, and I just went with it. "Exploring." Growing. "Having a really, _really _nice time."

"Where have you been, so far?"

"Not far. I toured a church and went out on a boat. I went to the street market earlier today. You learn so much, just watching people."

"Really?"

"You don't tip, here. And you do _not _pick fruit; you let the seller do that for you." I smiled. "You like your job."

"You can tell that?"

I laughed. "Yes. And you can't keep your eyes off me."

"You're just as guilty."

I glanced at him through my eyelashes. "Yes."

"I like you, Elena. You know how to laugh."

_'__You know how to laugh.'_

Not anymore, I don't. "Where did you grow up?"

"Just down the road. A little house with my mother and father and sisters. I wouldn't trade it for the world." You're very lucky. "And yourself?"

I followed him down a bunch of stairs. "Virginia. Just me and my brother and our parents. They, uh. Passed, a few years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thank you. Our aunt moved in to take care of us. Not many people would have done it. And I don't know how I would have got through without my brother."

"I love my sisters, but sometimes I wish I had a brother."

"Sometimes I wish I had a sister."

"You can borrow mine, anytime."

I laughed. "Thank you. Right now, I'm having more fun with you."

"Have you been to Rome?"

"Flew in, there. Wanted the coast, first."

"If you plan to go back, I will give you a friends' number. He can give you a tour, from a local's perspective."

"And what kind of perspective can you give me from here?"

Before we got the gelato, he led me to a lighthouse.

"Too many stairs," he said, when we got to the top. He wasn't out of breath, and, well, I wasn't. "No elevator. Not a tourist location."

"It's beautiful."

"I think so, myself." I could feel his eyes on me, though. "That is why I cannot leave like my sister has."

"How many sisters do you have?"

"Five. All older."

"Wow. Do you have any nieces and nephews, then?"

"I have two nipoti, sì. And one of my sisters is pregnant."

I sat down and just stared at the water. "Where else should I go, in Italy?"

"How long are you here for?"

"Here? Two more nights. Then I have to move on. But." I looked over and smiled. "I like it here, so… yeah. I can see myself coming back."

"Really."

"The company is wonderful." After a few more minutes, I looked over at him and smiled. "And how about that gelato?"

He smiled. "After you."

I would have loved to have time to slip away and have something to eat, but I couldn't think of a just excuse.

"Hey. So." I interrupted the silence of our gelato with my question. "Are there any great Italian bands I should listen to?"

"Too many different bands. You should just Google it."

"Google doesn't tell me your opinions."

"Premiata Forneria Marconi. Max Pezzali. Bluvertigo. Elio e le Storie Tese. Lacuna Coil. Rock, maybe pop. But most of the music I listen to is not from Italy. That's why. Google."

"Google. Alright."

"You don't have internet access, do you?"

"Nope."

"Well. How about this. After dinner, would you like to go out? We can go out for a drink – dance. Have a nice time."

"Isn't that what we're doing now?"

He smiled. "Why are you quizzing me?"

"Not quizzing. I didn't mean to seem like that. Uh. How old are you?"

"Twenty two. Why?"

"I'm eighteen. My culture is, like, _zero_. I just want to… live. Experience. Have fun. Grow up. You know?"

He stood up and offered me his hand.

I took it.

"What do you want to eat?"

You. "You decide."

He took me to some little restaurant. We were led to the top of the building and were able to see… _everything_.

There wasn't much talking, but that was all me.

I was hungry. I was starving, and he smelled – so – good.

"It's warm," I said after dessert. He snapped out of his compulsion. "Do you think it'd be okay if I changed, before we go out?"

"You're not trying to run away from me?"

Away from, no. "No." I don't want to kill you. "It's _hot_. You can even come in, if you want."

"I can wait outside."

I led him down the street to the place I was staying, and let myself in to the hallway. He leaned against the wall outside my door.

Instead of grabbing my shorts, first, I went right for the fridge and chugged a bottle of blood like I'd never done before. I was drinking my second bottle when he spoke.

"It's a little place."

I wanted to smile. I was happy and I no longer wanted to kill him. But I knew the inside of my mouth was covered in blood.

"I'm not staying long." I went to the bag on my chair and grabbed a pair of shorts. When I talked, I talked away from him. Bloody teeth. "Going to brush my teeth, too." I took one more sip, and put my blood back in the fridge.

I felt _loads _better.

"You trust me, much," he said. He was still leaning against the wall, next to the doorway.

I would have heard you going through my things. "I've got a good sixth sense."

"I don't know what that means."

"It means, I think you're trustworthy. Come on." I grabbed his hand and dragged him out, locking the door. "Where are we going?"

-x-

I was wrong.

The bar – the _club _– we were at was packed. It was full of people, warm from the heat, warm from alcohol, warm from dancing, all packed into one small, little place.

It was packed with people.

With humans.

I excused myself to the bathroom, but the hallway was no better. The bathroom, however, was an immense relief. There were only a few other girls.

I took deep, shuddering breaths, trying to calm down, but found my teeth growing instead.

A girl burst into my stall, and I realized I had never fully closed the door. She dropped to the floor and was sick in the toilet. It was a strange sensation: nauseated by the sick, hungry because she smelled _amazing_.

When she stood up, she looked awful: awful because she was sick, and awful because she had barged in on me.

She had small features: small nose, small eyes set back in her small face, small curving eyebrows, and little lips. She was blonde: blonde, blonde, blonde, her lashes only a few shades darker than her hair.

"Shh." I pulled her in. "Don't scream." The other girls, talking, covered my whisper up, but she did as I compelled.

My teeth ached so badly that it actually _hurt _to drink from her, but it was well worth it.

"Shh." I couldn't stop, and I didn't want to.

I was going to kill her.

I'd only done it a few times before, and I knew the guilt would haunt me for days, _weeks_, but I couldn't _stop_.

"Adelaide?"

Somehow, I knew that was the girls name, and that was all it took to get my teeth to retract. "You're okay," I whispered, licking her neck, watching the wounds heal.

"I'm okay," she said.

"Adelaide!"

"Call to your friend," I whispered.

"Natalia." I held her to me and opened the door. "I'm sick."

She said something, and it felt calming, reassuring.

"Shh." Natalia started talking in Italian; I just shook my head. "I'm so sorry," she said, this time in English. "She normally doesn't get this drunk."

"It's okay," I said, still holding her to me. "She's clammy. Can you get her home?" I walked towards her, compelling her.

"Yes."

"Call for me, if something goes wrong."

I don't know why I said that, but it was too late to take it back.

"Yes."

The bathroom door opened again, and another girl came to help Natalia with Adelaide.

"Thank you."

I held the door for them, and made eye contact with Nino.

He exchanged words with the second girl helping Adelaide. Si. That's all I caught. Yes, something.

"What was that?" I asked.

"What was that?" he asked back, smirking.

"Sick girl ran in on me."

"Her friends were saying I have a sweet girlfriend."

I smiled. "S'cool."

"School?"

"It's cool." I smiled, and he took my hand, dragging me back on the dance floor.

- x -

After he walked me home, I waited until I knew he was gone. I waited until I heard no noises from any of the people in my building.

I remembered where the hospital was, and I remembered how to get to the blood storage.

I was in for a slightly shocking surprise.

I should have expected it, but I didn't.

Under my favorite kind of blood was a short note. I couldn't speak Italian, I couldn't understand it, and I sure couldn't read it. I flipped it over and there was English on the back.

.

'You may not believe me, but I don't know who you are and I really don't care. We're a small town and can't afford to lose more blood bags. I'll give you one more, but any more than that and I _will _hunt you down. But please, leave the B- blood alone.'

.

Jesus, my luck sucked. I should expect every town I visited would have a resident vampire, or at least one who looked over it. Part of me knew there weren't _that _many vampires, but, right now, that's what it felt like.

I snuck into a store and took a little notebook and pen. I'd have to guard it with my life, but I needed some way to keep track of the hospitals I took blood bags from. One a month, or something like that, unless it was a bigger hospital.

Or maybe I needed someone like Matt: a willing donor who would give me a mouthful or two of blood a few times a week. It wouldn't be enough, not _nearly _enough, but it would mean I only had to take a blood bag a week to survive. Or, maybe I could take up a Stefan-diet.

Deer _sucked_.

- x -

He had the lunch shift, again, the next day and then was off. He took me out for gelato again. I had mango, the first time, and chocolate this time.

"Which is better?" he asked.

"Fruit." I licked my spoon and thought. "Chocolate custard is better than chocolate gelato, that's for sure."

"You really have to leave tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"But you will come back?"

"Eventually."

"Eventually." He sounded sad.

"Within a year." Or two. Any later than that and he would notice that I wasn't getting older.

"Why not stay?"

I looked over at him. We were sitting on the sand. His knees were up, and his elbows were resting on them. Instead of looking at me, he was staring at the water. He was beautiful, and I ached even thinking about leaving him.

"You have a boyfriend, don't you?"

Yes. And no. I don't know.

"I'm sorry. That wasn't polite of me."

I was still new to this whole vampire thing. I wasn't compelling him, hadn't been the entire time except at dinner so we didn't talk… so I didn't kill him. Did I have some kind of vampire allure I wasn't aware of?

"My step-dad thinks I'm too young. To do anything, long term. I'm too young to date, too young to think of engagement and marriage. I'm too young to think of kids and settling down. But he also thinks I'm too young for more basic things. I'm too young to worry about college, right now. I'm too young to be living on my own. I'm too young to hold a job. I'm too young to have access to my parent's money, to my trust fund."

"But not too young to travel Europe on your own?"

"He's my step-dad. And I'm nineteen. Which makes me legal age, back home."

"So there is someone."

I _hurt_. "No." There wasn't. "My step-dad convinced him. Not me."

.

_"__Elena has a lot of growing up to do, Damon."_

_"__I know that, Ric."_

_"__I don't think you do. She's eighteen. She has her whole life in front of her, Damon. If you love her, you'll let her go. If you don't, it doesn't matter if she leaves. And if it is love, five, ten, twenty years won't make a difference – in vampire years."_

_I didn't need to hear more. Not from Ric. Not from Ric or Damon and Stefan or Caroline or Bonnie or anyone._

_I tuned the rest of their conversation out and sat on the porch swing, waiting._

_Eventually, Damon came out and saw me. I just looked at him, and made him know I heard. He sat down next to me, elbows on his knees. He couldn't even make eye contact with me._

_"__I'm a selfish person, Elena," he said, looking at an invisible something in his hands. "I can't be selfish with you."_

_"__You said that, before. The first time you told me you loved me. And then you made me forget."_

_He said nothing._

_I couldn't read which emotion I was feeling, from him, but part of it was guilt, and another part was shame. And selfishness. 'Don't go, don't go, Princess of Darkness, don't go. Don't leave me, don't go, don't go, Princess, I would break if you left, don't go, don't go, I will break.' But there was grudging acceptance, too, that, 'Ric is right, you are only eighteen, only a baby, but don't go, baby vampire, don't go, my Queen of Shadows, don't go, don't go, don't leave me.'_

_When he finally looked over, I was gone._

.

"Don't go."

I smiled. "Give me your address. Give me your address and I'll write you. I'll send postcards and pictures. I'll get a mailbox, somewhere, or a PO Box, and you can write me. You can tell me, when you're old enough, about your girlfriend, and your nieces and nipote."

I gave him a piece of paper and a pen. He wrote it down and stuck it in the sand.

When he finally looked over, I was gone.

-x-

I packed the few things I had and left a little thank you note on my recently made bed.

Before I left, I visited an electronics store. I got a nice, digital camera and a cell phone plan that included calling (even long distance), texting, and (unlimited) internet usage. I felt guilty, compelling them for it, and not paying, but I had nowhere near enough money for that. But now I had somewhere safer than a notebook to keep track of the hospitals I stole blood from.

* * *

AN: Nipote should mean nephew in Italian. If I butchered it, please let me know. Feel free to point out any spelling/grammatical errors, or inconsistent timelines. Any missing scenes you'd like to see/read, mention in a review. If I don't have them written, odds are I will write them.

Next chapter: Elena finds her home, we meet two friends, and find out what her plans are for the next Twenty Years.


	3. Home

Hitchhiking is dangerous.

Not when you're a vampire.

I left some guy, stranded, without his car, in the middle of nowhere without a clue as to how he got there. He also was missing all of his money and a significant amount of blood, but no one would know the second part

Jerk. Don't mess with a vampire.

I followed what other drivers were doing and passed through this town and that town, just making my way north, until I reach a large city that felt… homely. I abandoned his car in some back alley and made sure to wipe my fingerprints away, just in case.

My first agenda was a bank. A big, huge bank.

"Hello." I looked at the man that greeted me when I walked in. "You look American."

"Thanks." I think.

Half an hour later, I walked out, content. He was setting up an account, for me, under the name Elena Gatti, from my savings account and trust fund from home. He was helping me get an Italian ID and passport. I would get them, and my debit card, in three days. They would be mailed to my little PO Box. To hold him to his word, he had given me five thousand dollars that he wouldn't be getting back until I had full access to my account. I threatened his wife and two, cute little daughters if any of it got out; he didn't have to know I was bluffing.

I also had the number of a lady who would help me find an apartment.

It was cute and little, in what looked like a huge home broken up into smaller apartments. It blended into the tall buildings surrounding it like that's how it was meant to be. It was on the ground floor and had its own entrance. I painted.

Because I asked (compelled and bribed, was more like it), she helped me at a little furniture store. Language was my biggest barrier, here. I picked out all little furniture for my little apartment. Little bed and nightstand, little lamp, little dresser. I swapped out the full-sized appliances for a little, under the counter fridge and a two burner stove top. I got a little washer and dryer for under the stairs, and a daybed for the nook on the third story. A little table and two chairs, a little couch, a little rocking chair, two little end tables, and two matching table lamps. Little, little, little.

I _liked _it.

The only improvement I had to do was add an extra fridge to the utility room upstairs and buy a lock for the door – I was paranoid about my blood.

"Ciao." I looked over the little fence, to my new neighbour. I could tell she had a different accent from Nino. "Mi Chiamo Nadia."

"Mi chiamo Elena."

"Do you speak English?"

Thank _God_. "Yes."

"You don't look Italian – you look… exotic."

"Thank you." I think.

"In a good way." She opened the little gate to her little yard, and ushered to a little patio chair. More little, little, little, but I _loved _it. I needed one.

She offered me a glass of iced tea.

"Thank you."

"You're not from around here, are you? I saw you getting new delivery."

"You're not Italian, either, are you?"

"No. I grew up in Eindhoven, Netherlands, but my parents had friends we visited regularly in the states. I met my husband while studying abroad in Paris. His job brought us here, and I could not be happier."

"Uhm. I grew up in Virginia."

"American!"

"Uhm." Use your words, Elena. "Yes? You sound surprised."

"You look exotic!" Was that the vampire in me? "Again, in a good way."

"Well… I can trace my lineage all the way back to Bulgaria, but I wouldn't call that exotic."

"Really!"

"Fourteen seventy three."

"Wow."

"That's just my mother's side." Err, whatever you wanted to call Katherine. She sure wasn't family, just my ancestor. "Maybe that's what you see."

"Are you staying, long?"

"Not as of yet," I said. "Still traveling. West, first, I think. I should be back in a week or two."

"Maybe my husband and I will take you out when you get back. I think it should be fun to get to know you."

I hadn't heard that, before. Unless it was a guy, people were scared of me. Because I was a vampire. I prodded, but I didn't get a vampire vibe from her, or anything supernatural, for that matter. I had no idea how Lisa did it. "I would like that, too." Then I caught something through the open door.

"What?" I stood up, hovering on the threshold. Not only because I wasn't invited in, but because I didn't want to be rude. "That? Oh, I painted that." It was a landscape of some sea or beach, and the sun setting on the left and boats and other things. Unlike a picture, I could _see _the detail in the paintbrush strokes and oil and it was _beautiful_. I felt like the sea was moving. "You can come in. Get a closer look, if you want."

You shouldn't have invited me in, I wanted to scream, but, dazed, I followed her in, still staring at the picture. Finally, I snapped out of it.

"_You _painted that?"

She looked proud. "Yes, I did."

"It is _beautiful_."

"Thank you."

"Do you still paint?"

"Occasionally."

I laughed. "I may have to convince you otherwise. Maybe I could commission a piece out of you?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. That is _stunning_." I felt like I could hear one of the birds in the sky. "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

Unlike the girl in the bathroom, I was able to stop after a few mouthfuls of blood.

"Please forget this," I said. "And do not invite me in again without your husband or someone else present." She blanked out and I waved my hand in front of her face. "Hello?"

She shook her head. "What?"

"I'm sorry, I think you blacked out, for a second." I was concerned; that had never happened before.

"Yeah." She blushed and looked away. "I do that. I'm not supposed to drive because of it. Absence seizures."

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. If you get me some kind of picture, I'd be more than happy to paint, for you. I'm sure my husband would be happy that I'm doing something constructive."

"I'll get on that." I compelled her again. "Call me if anything strange goes on in my apartment."

"Of course." We exchanged numbers. "I hope to hear from you, soon."

"Oh." I smiled. "You will."

I closed her door, thinking.

Either she really did have absent seizures, or she was able to resist compulsion. She certainly didn't _taste _like vervain. But I had never experienced it, before. I mean, not that I compelled _that _often…

I lounged on the couch, looking around absentmindedly. The walls were blank. Nice and tan and green and blue, but blank. I'd have to do something about that.

Maybe I'd have to lace my neighbours with vervain.

I visited Walgreens (seriously? Walgreens in Italy?) and turned a few of the pictures I had taken into postcards, but didn't mail them.

I got my debit card, ID, and passport.

Then I rented a car and drove north and then west, following the water, until I came around to Marseille. I rented a little place for a week and enjoyed taking pictures, meeting locals, and eating amazing food. I bought a few art pieces and things for my apartment and was _happy. _I went farther west, and then south to Barcelona, Valencia, Almeria, and finally Lisbon, repeating the process over and over again.

Then I stopped.

I was in Lisbon. I was in _Portugal_.

I rented a room, again, and got my things together. I was living out of three outfits; that had to change.

But first, I sat down with the pictures and postcards I had collected along the way.

All of them would go to Nino, so they went in one pile, but I didn't have heart to address them quite yet.

I picked out a few others. One of me, in front of the Tyrrhenian Sea, before I had left Nino. Then there was the picture of me, in front of my little apartment in Genoa and in front of the Marseille Cathedral, and a 'Welcome to Barcelona' postcard. I labeled the first three to Damon; wrote an address I had written hundreds of times before.

'Wish you were here', I wrote, on the one of me in front of my apartment. 'Nineteen years, eleven months. Love, Elena'

I sent one of me and the coast to Bonnie and Caroline. They said the same thing.

'Touring Europe! Having the best time I can, without my two best friends. The food is _amazing_, and the sights are to _die _for! I have no idea if you'll want to write back, but I would love to hear from you! Maybe you can even visit, one day! Love, Elena'

I even sent Nadia a postcard.

It was _fun_.

Then I drove all the way home (_home!_), only stopping to eat and sleep.

I took the things I bought into my apartment, and nailed them up. A handmade clock that I had to _wind_, next to the sink. A little shelf, above the couch, and a few trinkets I had found went on it.

I went out to get a second load, and saw Nadia waiting for me.

"You're back!"

I laughed. "Yes, I'm back. I told you I'd be back!"

"I'm glad! Greg thought I was making you up."

"Greg?"

"My husband. Sorry." She went back to the door and called in, "Greg! Come meet the lady you say doesn't exist!"

A few seconds later, he came out, laughing and smiling. "You must be Elena. I'm Gregor. Greg. We have dinner reservations at nine. Would you care to join us?" I was hungry, _now_. He must have seen the hesitation on my face. "But I understand if you're tired. Maybe another night?"

"No, it's not that. I'm still not used to eating that late."

"Drinks first, perhaps?"

"I have a few things I have to get done, but sure."

I brought in the last of my things. A hook for my coats, when it got cold. A pretty fan. A light switch with paw prints on it.

Nothing of my past life, which hurt.

How could I get my hands on a picture of Damon? I could ask Bonnie to send a few of her and Caroline, but none of Damon. I didn't think this far ahead.

Then I went shopping to make myself forget.

I was happy, to pick out new outfits. Fitted jeans and pants, skirts, and another pair of shorts, fancy tops, normal tops, and even a swimsuit. I'd have to hit the beach, one day.

And shoes. I only had my tennis shoes and one pair of flip-flops. Now I had sandals and little black ballet flats that fit perfectly.

I had exactly one blood bag left from my random, I need to eat _now_, stop at a hospital on the way back, last night. I would need to sort that out; I couldn't keep eating neighbours. _That _was not hospitable.

The restaurant Greg was talking about was only a nice, ten minute walk from our homes. I even let them order for me.

"So, Elena. Where are you from? Nadia says Virginia and Bulgaria."

I smiled. "Born and raised in a little town in Virginia. Yes, my mother's side of the family came from Bulgaria, and my father's side of the family came from Germany."

"Yeah, I figured Saltzman was German." I adopted a blank face. I didn't remember telling her my last name. "It was on your mailbox," Greg said. "I didn't mean to-"

"No, that's okay." I smiled, and took a sip of my wine. "My parents passed, a few years ago, and I took on my step-dads name. I'm still not used to it."

"I'm sorry to hear of your loss."

"Thank you," I said, and meant it. "But where are you from? Nadia said she's from the Netherlands."

"Germany. We met at school in Paris."

"I heard." I smiled again. It was _nice _to smile. "Très romantique."

"You speak French?"

"Not a lot," I said. "I took four years of French in high school, that's it. And I spent a week in Marseille. That helped, too."

"Well I am more than happy to help you with French _and _Italian," Nadia said.

"If you have some free time, this week," I said. "I could use a little help filling the rest of my apartment up, or even my closet." It was this custom, built in piece of artwork, on the back wall of my bedroom. Armoire was probably a better word, but it would always be a closet to me. "Maybe we could go shopping and you could show me a few-"

"Oh, I know _just _the place!"

Our first course was here. I was good, with my blood bag, so what food we ate, or didn't eat, wouldn't bother me.

"Just because I'm curious," Greg said, "and I know Nadia is going to yell at me later. How old are you, Elena?"

I had to think. "Twenty." According to my ID, anyway. "Why?"

"I was just wondering." But Nadia was glaring at him. "You look a little young."

"Too young?"

"No. Just young."

"I'm twenty three," Nadia said. "So we're a good match."

"Well, then," I said, to Greg. "What do you do?"

"Just a copy-editor. I can work from home, mostly, but they like me to come in a few times a week."

"No, that's your _job_. Tell her what you _do_."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm also still enrolled in school."

"Oh? Studying what?"

"The occult."

When he brought up my last name, I was wary.

I was glad I didn't drop my guard and was able to keep a neutral face. "Really. Any... I don't know. Specific focus?"

"Paranormal, mostly," he said, hesitating. "Ghosts and stuff."

_Damon: 'When I kill people, they're supposed to stay dead.'_

_Mason helping Damon. 'You know what the other side is like? We're all alone. We watch the people we left behind, and we regret our decisions. That's it. Look, I can't change what happened to me. But maybe I can change what happens to Tyler. I don't need revenge, Damon. I need redemption.'_

"I guess that depends what kind of ghost you're talking about."

"What?" He shook his head. "Normally this is where people start laughing," he admitted.

"I _told _you she was cool," Nadia said. I didn't scare her, and I was cool, now, too? What the heck? I mean, I wasn't trying to be a _vampire_, but I was _supposed _to be _scary_. I thought vampires were supposed to _frighten _people; that it was just part of our nature. Then again… I wasn't trying to scare them.

"Are you talking ghosts like Casper, ecto-blob ghosts? Or ghosts like haunted house, buildings, castles or whatever? Or, Grandma's ghost is watching over me?"

"You're serious?" he said, and I nodded. "You're not joking?" I shook my head that time. "You _believe_?"

"Well, I'm not saying I believe or not. You haven't exactly said what kind of 'occult paranormal' 'ghost stuff' you're talking about."

"Like haunted buildings. I got to spend the night, once, a long time ago, in an old-school insane asylum. It was probably rigged, but I… I don't know."

"Well then I'll tell you. I believe in respecting the dead. But, beyond that, I have no idea." Oh, I had ideas, alright. I had _experience_.

They didn't say anything for a long time.

Finally, Greg spoke.

"You're laughing at me, on the inside."

"No, I'm not." I finished my glass of wine and waved the waiter over for a water. "I've lost my parents – my adoptive parents _and_ my birth parents. I've lost my grandparents." I lost my great-whatever Katherine is, not that I consider her family. "Sometime I hope my mother is watching over me. But I have no idea."

But I did.

Humans passed on.

Paranormal… supernatural beings didn't, if they had unfinished business. My real mother and father would never be able to watch over me. John and Isobel would be able to. Anna was, as was her mother.

"I'm sorry." He sounded very honest, so I believed him.

"Thank you. I don't laugh at what I don't know." He shivered. "What?"

"Like right now, since you don't think I'm crazy." Nadia rubbed his arms. "I just feel creepy. Like someone's watching me."

For a while, after Klaus killed me but before I became a vampire, I could see dead people. When I died and became a vampire, that changed everything. Honestly, the creepy feeling was probably from me being a vampire.

"Well-"

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Why?"

"I brought it up. I study witches, too. We're mainly dealing with wiccans, right now, but I've had some eerie palm readings, before."

"So have I." Then I realized I said that one out loud. "But. Most of _those _are total B.S." Trust me, I wanted to say. _Real _witches didn't waste their time giving out palm readings and reading tarot cards.

"Is there anything you _don't _believe in?" Nadia asked.

"Cool nights?" I fanned myself, grinning. "I figured it would be warm, but not _this _warm."

"You get used to it," she said.

"Thank you."

I looked at Greg. "Why?" But I knew it before he said it.

"For not laughing."

"You can… totally tell me _whatever _you want. Unless I have proof that something exists, or doesn't exist, I'm am the most open minded person you will _ever _meet." I looked at Nadia. "Well. The second."

They smiled and looked at each other.

I leaned back, grinning, and when the waiter offered more wine, I didn't refuse.

La, la, la, la, la, I wanted to sing. Witches and ghosts and vampires and werewolves exist! Ha! I'm in on a big secret that you only _wish _you knew!

And then I felt stupid and childish, but _happy_.

I could tell that Nadia didn't believe _any _of it, but she loved Greg and, therefore, believed it, anyway.

"Hey. Are we allowed pets?"

"Yes?"

"Great. I was thinking of getting a cat."

"Really."

I shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm not always going to be home-"

"Greg's allergic," she blurted. "So I can't get one. I can watch it, for you."

I laughed and rolled my eyes. "I was just mentioning it. I have no inclination to get one, now. I haven't even spent three nights here, yet."

"Really?"

"Well, here, at my apartment, here, yeah. I spent almost a week in a little town just west of Rome."

"Really?" Now, Greg sounded happy and carefree and curious again. I wanted to tell him to get out of the occult business, but, well. I pulled the little slip of paper out of my pocket and gave it to him. "Yeah, I've heard of it. Who's Antonino Salvatore?"

I grinned. "A boy I met." And then –

Salvatore?

Are you _kidding _me?

Not possible.

No _chance_.

Salvatore was a common last name.

But, I knew, in my life, there was no such thing as coincidence.

Maybe I was just attracted to all Salvatore's. That would explain it; the attraction I couldn't put my finger on…

"You're happy."

I looked at Nadia, with my grin still plastered to my face. Another perk of being a vampire. "Yeah. Aaand a little tipsy." I put my wine glass down. "I think that's my limit."

"I'll get the bill," Greg said.

"No, I've got it." I waved, and the waiter eventually came back with the book.

"You good?" I asked.

"Really-"

"Nope. My treat, this time. If you insist, next time, you guys can pay."

"But-"

"Nope. No but's."

"But-"

"If you do that one more time, I'm going to pay next time, too.'

He grinned. "We alternate, then. You, me, Nadia."

I still couldn't shake my luck. Salvatore? I tried to keep up the jollities. "Not fair! There's two of you and one of me!"

"Too bad! Next one's on me!"

Friends. I had friends.

At my apartment, I collapsed on my bed, and cried, for the first time since I left.

Damon was not there to make it better.

-x-

The next day, Nadia showed me where our closest post office was.

"You're kidding me." Nadia gave me a strange look. "All that I have to do is add 'USA' to the end of these address?" She nodded, I laughed. "Of course it would be that simple."

One to Damon, Bonnie, and Caroline. I'd send one every few weeks.

"Any idea how long it will take?"

"A week," Nadia translated. "Maybe two. Maybe less. It's always different."

Alright.

Outside was still hot and sticky. I was in a skirt, and she was in a dress. We were cute.

"What do you need?"

"A coffee pot." I _missed _my morning coffee. Since it was so warm, I was warm, and coffee made little difference, but it was still part of my routine. "And a teapot."

"It's _hot!_"

"There are just some habits you can't shake. Hot coffee and tea is one of them. Plus, it's bound to get cold, soon."

"Anything else?"

I shrugged. "Other than that, yeah. Just a few little pieces. Maybe more vintage, or rustic, or, I don't know. Nothing _modern_. A book case. A little coffee table. Some cute curtains. I don't know. More clothes."

"Well let's get your coffee pot and teapot out of the way, first."

They were modern, like the rest of my kitchen.

"You have such a little fridge!" Since it was under the counter, I was left with way more counter space. My coffee pot stood in the corner, looking cute, and the bright red tea kettle added a brilliant pop against the tan wall. "This is your only room, down here?"

"Yes?"

"We have that room, too," Nadia said, pointing to my back wall. "It is two rooms. We use one for a spare bedroom, and the other Greg uses as his office."

"It's just me," I said. "And this is _more _than enough room."

"But it's _cute_!"

"And maybe a little carpet, too." The wood was cool – not cold, but not warm. If I stood barefoot long enough, the cold would slowly seep up my legs. Now, it wasn't that big of a deal. In winter, it would be. "And a little bookcase, or something, for this little area. And more clothes."

"This way!" I locked up.

"How about some Italian, too?"

"Uno, due, tre. One, two, three."

"Uno, due, tre," I repeated. "Un, deux, trios."

"Quattro, cinque, sei."

"Sette and settanta."

"Good! Otto, nove, diece."

"Uno, due, tre, quatrro, cinque, sei, sette, otto, nove, uh. Dix."

"Diece."

"That's enough, for now. But learning numbers is a good idea. It frustrates people when I don't know how much something costs." But… "I have a feeling I'm going to be mixing my French and Italian numbers up."

"That's okay. They're close. People will still know what you're trying to say."

"How many languages do you speak?"

In the store, I went towards a display, but she politely stopped me. "Unless you want to get dirty looks, you should really ask for help. You can look through the things hung up, but they're pretty picky about the folded items."

"See? Thanks."

"What sizes?" she asked, as a girl walked over. I was just looking at some basic tank tops and t-shirts, for now.

"Small."

"Trentotto or quaranta. Thirty eight or forty," she said. "You're pretty small, so I would say thirty eight. Trentotto. Thirty and eight."

"Trentotto," I repeated.

"Any colors?"

"Two white and two black." The most common colors I'd wear. "And maybe that yellow."

"Bianco e nero," she said, holding up two fingers. "Giallo."

"Grazie."

The sales lady smiled, but I could tell she was amused. "Anything else?"

"A dress, maybe." I twirled. "I like color."

She led me across the floor, and I looked through a few of the dresses. "What do you think?" I asked Nadia. "This one, or this one?"

"Try both of them on, see which one you like better."

"Trentotto," I said, looking through them. "What does that measure?"

"It's just our sizes," Nadia said. "Trust me. I wish it was bust size, but it's not." Just like me, she was pretty small chested.

I couldn't decide, so I just got both.

"Is this it?"

"Do you have jewelry?"

"No, sorry."

"Then yes, this is it."

I paid. This place had a digital total, so I was able to see. It seemed like a decent price until I remembered how shitty the exchange rate was. Oh well. This was here and now; no more American dollars.

We picked up plates and bowls and silverware, enough for four place settings.

"How many languages do you speak?" I asked again.

"Uh. Several." She blushed. "Dutch and English are my… main languages. But I consider myself fluent in Italian, as well. And I, uhm, I know a fair bit of German and French, too."

"Wow."

"Well. I studied French and Italian, in school. Became better in French, when I went there. Met Greg, picked up enough German. And he got the job here, so… lost a bit of my French, became more fluent in Italian."

Wow. "And Greg?"

"German, Italian, and English. And some French."

Jesus. "See? This is why I want to travel. To learn, to live, to grow up. My culture is _zero_. And the history we're taught is almost _completely _falsified."

"There is plenty of history, here."

- x -

The next day, she took me to church with her. It was in Italian and I wasn't religious, but it was nice.

It was a _huge _church. She gave me a tour, and showed me stain glass windows, and the choir rooms, and the statues.

"Wow."

"See? History."

I smiled and laughed. "History. It's _beautiful_."

"Would you like to go to a museum tomorrow?"

"I have a few things I have to do out of town tomorrow. How about Tuesday?"

"Wonderful!"

- x -

My 'things to do' included getting blood bags.

Or a steady supply of blood.

What I _really _needed was to find an English news channel so I could follow stories about bad people.

What I found, instead of a blood bank, or a hospital, was a flyer for a blood drive. I perked up.

If you passed out after you donated, or weren't able to fill the bag fast enough, they weren't allowed to use the blood. All I had to do was wait until they carried the 'unusable' blood out, compel a girl to give it to the 'disposal' team, and I walked off with over two weeks' worth of blood.

The only problematic thing was keeping it fresh until I got back.

I settled on a cooler and a few bagfuls of ice.

Back home, I unlocked my door and left it open. At the car, I grabbed the cooler, ran to the house, dropped it off, and was back at the car in a second flat. If anyone did manage to see I was missing for a second, they would just think it a trick of the eye.

The blink of an eye.

I was sad, again, and took a little desk out of the back of my car. It would fit in the corner perfectly, and there was even a little corner bookshelf that went with it. I brought in another random box of things: a few empty picture frames, a set of three vanilla candles, and a hand carved, black little cat. I would have to find a little white paint, and she would be perfect.

Then I went through the apartment doors, to the lobby. I knocked from door to door.

"Ciao."

"Ciao?" was usually my reply.

I compelled. "You won't notice when I don't get any older."

"Of course."

"Are there any other people you live with?"

"My boyfriend."

"Call him, so I can tell him, too."

"He's not here, right now."

"You won't remember this, but I'll be back later."

She blinked, and when she opened her eyes, I was hiding. She shook her head, confused, and closed the door. I did that for all the floors of the buildings, and made notes of which ones I would have to visit again in my phone. I compelled the land lady, too, who would tell me when new residents moved in. Better to cover my tracks now than down the road. I was planning to _stay_.

After breakfast on Tuesday, we visited the Palazzo Bianco.

At the last stop, at the last painting we saw, I knew what I was going to do.

One month without Damon was one month too many. I knew for a fact that I couldn't go two hundred and thirty nine months without seeing him.

I would _prove _it to everybody.

I would prove it to Bonnie and Caroline, Ric and Jeremy, and Stefan.

And most of all, I would prove it to Damon.

I would _prove _that there was no sire bond.

I would _prove _it if it was the last thing that I did.

I made that promise to myself and took one last look at the picture.

It was a witch.

-x-

I had no idea where to start.

There was no official witch twitter tweet, after all.

Miss Sheila was dead. Even if she weren't, she would only tell Bonnie. Bonnie wouldn't give me a place to start; she'd only tell Caroline.

The only other witches or warlocks that I knew were dead. Or missing.

And the internet would lie. When you Google'd 'vampire' all you got were references to Dracula and, God forbid, Twilight. Thank you to _whichever _deity you believe in that I didn't sparkle.

Nadia was a teacher, whatever a preschool teacher would translate to in Italian. She said it was more like a well-paid babysitter job, and that they had more fun than did actual learning. She had plenty of things she had to do for the coming school year, but whenever we had a chance, we would get together.

When she was busy, I still went to museums. I went from museum to museum, taking in not only normal artwork, but _anything _related to the supernatural.

Vampires and witches were drawn with horribly disfigured faces, hunched backs, and a dark demeanor. Witches were in dark forests all by themselves, with little, half-demolished old houses, and giant pewter cauldrons. Sometimes they were green, other times they had boils. They had brooms, next to them, and were sometimes depicted flying on them.

There were jars lined above hotplates with labels like 'eye of newt', 'salamander tails', 'baby tears', and, humorously, 'puppy dog tails'. If there were animals in the pictures, they were usually cats or bats. In rare cases, there were frogs or toads.

They just kept getting nastier.

Witches kidnapped and tortured little kids. They ate them and held them hostage, and used them in black magic spells.

Vampires were no better.

They wore high, heavy black cloaks with the collars popped up. They had dark, unkempt hair, heavy eyebrows, and didn't smile. They were creatures of the night, associated with bats. Some lived in castles, others lived alone, isolated.

Their fangs were over exaggerated, and would have done them no good in real life. None of them were blonde. None of them were pretty.

They were vile and wicked and only to be damned. They couldn't look at themselves in the mirror, couldn't eat garlic, and avoided crosses like the black plague. They were death, incarnate.

The only thing they got right was that they couldn't be in the sun.

Unless you had a witch best friend and a daylight ring. I looked down at mine and smiled.

Werewolves were able to blend in, better, but not by much. They turned into wicked beasts, even days before the full moon rose. They ate children and terrorized towns for sport, even in human form. They were _ugly_, in human form and out. Some looked like dogs, some looked long and lanky, more humanoid with only the face of a beast.

In all of them, death, blood, and destruction rang supreme. At least in the museums in Genoa, I saw no witch, vampire, or werewolf depicted in good light.

I supposed, however, that that was only a benefit to the real ones.

- x -

The horrible depiction of good people left me in a spectacularly foul mood one day.

I hid out in an alley, in a shady part of town. It was moments like this where my medium shade of blue jeans and light orange shirt stuck out. I remembered, now, why vampires hunt in the dark.

.

_"I think I'll make you my Queen of Shadows."_

_"What?" I still couldn't tear my eyes away from Damon's wrist._

_"What do you say? Will you be my Queen of Shadows, Elena? I can waken things inside you that have been sleeping all your life. You're strong enough to live in the darkness, to glory in it. You can become a queen of the shadows. Why not take that power, Elena? Let me help you take it."_

_I couldn't say anything, I was too heavy._

_"Go to sleep, Princess."_

.

When I turned, he took me to Lynchburg, to a shitty part of town, and dressed me all in black. I remembered the thrill, the jolt of excitement, at only being able to see the pale glint of his skin in the shadows. He was the Master of Shadows, and I was his queen.

In his memory, I was going to eat _well_.

I had rapist and mugger, drug dealer and pimp. All in all, it was a good night.

I didn't kill any of them. Unlike Damon or Klaus or Kol, I didn't fully embrace being a vampire. I didn't want to live up to the vampires depicted in those paintings. I only dealt out punishment where punishment was due, and where the legal system failed.

But that didn't mean I couldn't revel in a bad person or two, and bask in the delight of helping their victims.

- x -

My stash of 'unusable' blood was holding over, and the cretins of sketchy neighbourhoods kept me happy.

I missed being able to hang out with Nadia so much, but she, Greg, and I made sure to set aside one night each week. We went out to eat, or to grab a few drinks. I even hosted dinner one night.

"I'm sorry I've been busy these past few weeks."

Two hundred and thirty six and a half weeks! The fact that I was counting was pathetic.

"It's alright. I understand you have a job." I smiled. "I thought it was time we ate here instead of going out."

I was perfectly full of blood, and the human-kind of hungry.

I made hamburgers, on my little grill, and we enjoyed them on my third story patio. I brought up the key lime pie: perfect, because it didn't require an oven. I put it on the table, and went back for three wine glasses and a bottle of wine.

Alcohol helped take the edge off, too. The good thing was that Nadia and Greg only smelled good, not great.

"I heard you've been hitting museums lately."

"Yeah. The culture even _getting _there is amazing, not to mention all the paintings and statues when you are there. But. What have you been up to?"

He rolled his eyes. "We've moved on from Wiccans to 'the history of witches'."

"Come again?" The history of witches… That sounded interesting.

"You know." He rolled his eyes again and grinned, taking the glass of wine I offered. "Green witches, witches with boils, witches who slaved over hot pots using things like newts and baby parts?"

"That's history?"

"Of witches, yes."

"You know. Do you think there'd be any way I could sit in on one of these lectures?"

- x -

I shook my head, rolling my eyes, and tried not to laugh.

"Does this amuse you, Miss Gatti?"

The class was taught in Italian, but I made sure to attend an English lecture.

"No. I just think this is ridiculous."

"Then maybe you should leave."

"I mean." I ushered to all of the pictures he was showing us, on a slide show. I had seen a few of them in person, and had seen others online, and they portrayed the 'typical' witch. "You say witches have been around for thousands of years. If so… why would modern witches act like that?"

"Pardon?"

"If I was a witch. If I was a modern witch, a witch born in this century, this _decade_, I would do everything in my _power _to avoid clichés like this. I'd live in a populated area, have a pet dog, and keep my teeth in well working order. I wouldn't keep shelves lined with eye of newt, salamander tails, and essence of death. I'd label them salt and pepper and cocoa powder. Heck, I'd find modern, more potent ingredients. Witches wouldn't-" _don't_ "-live like this."

"This is the _history_ of witches, Miss Gatti. This is how they were portrayed in our _history_."

"I understand that. Even if this was one, two, _three _thousand years ago, no witches would be caught. They would know what stereotypes to avoid."

"Do you believe in witches?"

"Certainly not _these _kinds of witches, no. I just think they're fascinating stories."

"Then why are you laughing?"

"Because you're trying to pass these off as truth." You're trying to pass _these _off as truth. Not, you're trying to pass witches off as truth.

"What kind of witches do you believe in?"

"Maybe nothing. When I'm sick, I know chicken soup works wonders. It's hot, and that clears your sinuses. It's light, so it doesn't make your stomach sick, and yet it's filling. The broth keeps you hydrated. It's not a potion. It's not really even science. Just like ants don't like mint. Certain herbs do wonders on cuts. If anything, that's what I believe modern witchcraftery would be." Witchcraftery. I needed better words. And that was the best lie I could think of. It stopped me from blurting out: I have a witch for a best friend!

"Take care not to laugh during my lectures anymore. Dismissed."

Outside in the hallway, I grinned and gave Greg a sheepish look. "Sorry about that."

"It's cool. I still think it's wonderful how open-minded you are."

I know a witch. I have one as a best friend. I know there are good witches, like Bonnie, and bad ones, like Greta.

"You'd be surprised."

* * *

AN: I do not speak Italian. I'm really sorry if I messed any of it up.

I have been informed that 'Nadia' is the name of Katherine's daughter on the TV show. Nadia is NOT from the TV show. She is 100% human. I repeat, she is not a vampire. I have yet to watch season five.

Feel free to point out any spelling/grammatical errors, or inconsistent timelines. Any missing scenes you'd like to see/read, mention in a review. If I don't have them written, odds are I will write them.

Next Chapter: Elena visits France, talks to Bonnie and Caroline, and makes a meal out of a local French boy.


	4. France

"I'll be gone a few weeks."

I had exhausted a vast majority of the museums over the past two months, staring at certain paintings over and over again.

There were no leads, no clues to follow. Never once did a painting of a witch, vampire, or werewolf point to anything in real life. Nothing.

Greg's professor, Professor Tegan, didn't even believe in witches himself. He just had a fondness for art, and grotesque art at that.

And 'exhausting a majority of museums' was an overstatement.

I was _busy_. Most of the museums were so big that it took multiple _days _to look everything over. That didn't include the times I went back to certain paintings again and again, hoping to see something that was never going to be there.

I always visited blood drives and took their unwanted bags. I made days – nights – and the occasional weekend where I forgot everything, and fed off of humans, feeling myself gain power from their weaknesses and mal intentions.

I had even enrolled in a beginner's Italian course. It ended next week, and that's when I'd leave. The beginning of December was a great time to explore Europe. I didn't know if I was kidding or not.

It went from brisk to cool to cold. I had to remember to dress for the weather, and took my morning coffee inside.

I got a thermostat for my apartment, even though I didn't need one. I made sure to keep my apartment heated to sixty nine degrees, to pass off as human temperature. I had one little radiator to keep my main floor warm, one in my bedroom, and one below the little window on the third floor. The source of heat in my bathroom was a heated floor, and I thought it the most _wonderful _invention, _ever_. Okay, that was exaggerating, but I _loved _it. I bought a fake fireplace and set it up against the half wall separating my living area from my kitchen, and that helped immensely.

Only it reminded me of home, and I ached.

.

_"__Why do you have a fire lit in June?"_

_"__Because I can't feel hot or cold." I didn't say anything. "Because you like it. Now don't try any more stupid moves like that again." He pointed to his ear. "I'll know about it." I tried to sit up, but he held my shoulder. Damon was in one of those confusing, good boy/bad boy moods again: snarky, nice, snarky. "Close your eyes, Princess. Go to sleep."_

.

Almost two hundred and twenty six weeks. Almost.

I could do it.

But I knew I couldn't.

"What!" I shook myself out of my stupor and looked at Nadia. "You can't be away for Christmas!"

I smiled, or tried to. This would be my first Christmas without my family, too. "I'll be sure to make it back for Christmas Eve."

"And you'll go to church with us?"

"If you'd like me to, yes."

"I would like that very much, Elena."

She was very religious. She didn't swear and she never missed a church service, even if she was sick. She dressed nicely, but modestly, too. She volunteered, donated her time and money, and I could tell she really loved kids.

I gave her a lot of credit and secretly wondered what she would do if I told her I was damned.

"Oh, my God." I looked at her again, confused. "I am so sorry."

"What?"

"Were you going to spend Christmas with your family?"

"No. Aren't you?"

"No. Not until after the new year. My mother is a nurse. She works the holiday so others can spend their time with their families. We're fine having ours after."

"And Greg's?"

"The weekend before. I really think you should spend the holiday with your family."

-x-

Before I left, I did a few things.

I had a little boy take a picture of me in front of a huge, lighted Christmas tree in the city center before I left, and sent that to Bonnie, Caroline, Ric, Jeremy, Damon, and Stefan.

I told them all to be at Ric's place Christmas day. And, in Jeremy's envelope, I gave him a Skype username that I had made up. I didn't know if I could go through with it.

I wanted to spend the Christmas holiday in Paris, so that's what I did.

I packed my nice things, warm clothes, and a few blood bags for the road. And in ten short hours, I was in Paris.

I parked my rental at some long-term parking place and made an appointment with a lady who could help me find an apartment.

It ended up being a clean, modern apartment, all on one floor, halfway up the building. I liked the dark wood floors, warm grey walls, and shiny kitchen. It was much larger than my apartment in Italy, and one entire wall was windows that stretched from floor to ceiling. The kitchen was on one end, I would put a table in the middle, and the living room was at the other end. The best part, however, was the fireplace.

It was modern: black and warm grey, and the fire always danced magically red and orange in the hearth. I got deep blue curtains for the window wall, and a dark green carpet for the kitchen in front of the sink. I kept the modern theme throughout the bedroom, too, except in deep reds.

I loved it.

My debit card worked in France, and I had the apartment rented for a year.

At the top of the Eiffel Tower, I couldn't do it anymore. I turned my phone on, the number that I had given to Nadia and Greg, and pulled up Skype. I stared longingly at Jeremy's picture.

Twenty seconds later I had a video call.

Not from Jeremy, but Bonnie.

"Elena?"

"Bonnie." I wanted to cry.

She was. "I am _so _sorry."

"Shh. I'm okay. It's _okay_."

"Where _are _you?"

I laughed, wiping my tears, and turned so she could see over my shoulder. "On the Eiffel Tower."

"What!"

"I've been around. Rome. Valencia. Barcelona. Lisbon. Now Paris."

"Come home, Elena." Home is best.

"I _can't,_ Bonnie."

"I'm sorry that Damon-"

"Bonnie." I shook my head. "It doesn't matter. I can't come home, and you know it."

"But Elena-"

"Bonnie. You don't know the whole story, so just-"

"Then tell me, Elena."

"I can't."

"But don't you want to come home? Just for Christmas?"

"I want it more than you can believe. But you wouldn't let me leave. And I need this right now, Bonnie." I just needed Damon with me. "How's Caroline?"

"It's not the same without you, Elena."

"It's not the same without you guys, either. Oh, Bonnie, I miss you so _much_."

"I will tell Caroline to call you later."

I nodded, laughing, crying, and wiping my eyes. "Please."

"How is it? How is Paris?"

"I've only been here three days." I looked up. "It just started snowing. It's beautiful."

"I wish I could be there with you."

"Maybe one day. But how are _you_? How is Caroline? What have I missed?" I was down, now, on the street, and I found a bench.

"We were mad for a long time, Elena. You just – you left without saying good bye. It hurt. It still _hurts_. What happened, Elena? Why did you leave?"

"I didn't want to, trust me."

"One day, you just weren't _here_. And Damon was gone, and you left no note, and – and Stefan didn't know anything, and Jeremy didn't, either. And all that Ric could say is you left. He didn't believe it, either."

"What happened?"

"Caroline and Stefan couldn't find you. Or Damon. And a lot of people started showing up dead. It was Damon, we just know it, and he visited one night, absolutely _drunk_. And he let Jeremy beat him up, and then he was _gone_, again_._"

_'Don't go, Princess.'_

"Bonnie." I used my strong voice, my one with power because I was a vampire. Either it worked, even over Skype, or she just let me talk. "You wouldn't believe me, either way. I have… a lot of things I have to do. One day, sure. I'll come and visit. But not now. How _are _you?"

"I'm okay. Caroline and I will be home in a few days for winter break."

"Right. _College_. How's it going?"

"It's okay. But it's not the same without you, Elena. We've had this planned since day one: the three of us, going off to college, sharing a room."

"One day." Nineteen and a half years. "Bonnie… How's Jeremy?"

"Mad. Better, now. But he has no one left. Your parents passed and now you left. But. I think he understands, too. Ric's been good to him."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I was afraid that Ric was just sticking around for you, but, no. No, he's here for Jeremy, too."

"And Ric?"

"I think he was the only one not mad. He just seemed… sad." Guilty, I bet.

"Stefan?"

"Stefan's at school, with us, just in case. We haven't gone this long without anything supernatural happening since they moved here. And before you ask, I don't know about Damon. He's left. The only time he's been back was when he got drunk and let Jeremy beat him up. But tell me about _you_."

"Where's Caroline?"

She laughed. "Sleeping!"

I looked around and thought. "You know? I completely forgot about the time difference. What time is it?"

"Two in the morning." I looked at the time on my phone and did the math. "How about you call me around lunch? Around noon? Keep it as a surprise."

"I don't want to stop looking at you…"

"You'll see me again in ten hours. I have some things to do, anyway."

"But-"

"I _promise_. I'll even show you around my apartment."

"I thought you lived in Italy?"

"I live in Paris, too, now."

"Elena…"

"I know."

- x -

The main thing I had to do was find a new supply of blood. There weren't any blood drives that I was aware of and it was still day time, so it would be difficult to get into a hospital without a lot of compelling.

There were, however, plenty of shady people around the area; guys and girls after a quick buck, not afraid to scam tourists.

I stopped at a clothing store and picked out a new outfit, an entirely new outfit.

Dark, dark wash jeans that seemed like they were made for me, black high heeled boots, almost to my knees, a deep brown top, and a fancy leather jacket and gloves.

I was going to call this my hunting outfit.

I looked _good_, and my reflection knew it.

I saw my first victim after only five minutes outside.

He was trying to feel up a lady, and her husband was being detained by two other guys. The two guys were easy to take care of, and I had the third guy away from them before they knew what was going on.

"Hello, precious," he said, trying not to be scared.

"I have a name."

"And what's that?"

I leaned in and breathed up his neck. "My friends just call me 'vampire'."

I let him scream because there was no one around besides his two friends. When he was weak, I moved on to the others.

In the end, I left them alive and dropped them at the police station as a sort of Christmas present.

The restraint was killing me, not killing people, but, at the end of the day, I always went home feeling the victor for not killing any of them.

- x -

"Hey Caroline! Guess who I have on Skype!"

"I don't care, Bonnie! Go away!"

I gasped. "Caroline Forbes!"

Less than a second later, she was there. "Elena?"

"Oh my _God, _I've missed you two!"

"Elena!"

I laughed. "Yeah. It's me, Caroline. Really."

"You suck, just so you know." She couldn't stop smiling. "But I'm too happy to see you to be mad. What are you doing!"

"I'm in France." I turned around so my back faced the wall of windows. "If you can see that little line just over my shoulder, that's the Eiffel Tower."

"What! I thought you were in Italy!"

"And France," I said. "And I spent some time in Barcelona and Lisbon, too."

"Oh my God, Elena, you are a sight for sore eyes!"

"I'm going to hang up, for a second. I want to see you two better. I'll call you back on my computer."

"Hey! Wait! We just got you-"

"I promise!"

"You said you'd show us your apartment," Bonnie said. "You can't do that from a computer."

"Alright. _Fine_." But I couldn't stop smiling. "This is my kitchen."

It had an icy blue tile backsplash. The countertops were black, and the cabinets were in a light wood. The sink and all the appliances were stainless steel. The island matched the counter.

"Why do you have such a big kitchen!"

I panned around so they could see the wall of windows. "For that. It was either a studio so tiny you couldn't turn around, or all this space. But." I walked them farther down and showed them my fireplace. "This makes it _so _worth it!"

"Oh, Elena!"

"One day you guys will have to visit. But I have hundreds of things I have to do between then and now. Later this month I'll show you my little place in Italy. It's puny, compared to this. But it's _home_."

"This is home, Elena."

"Please, don't."

"What happened?" Caroline asked. "Why did you leave?"

"Did Damon make you?"

"Is he with you?"

"Why is Ric so torn up?"

"Where are you?"

"Come home!"

"Please come back."

"Why did you leave?"

"I'll see you guys. Eventually. I love you. There are just… plenty of things I have to work out, first."

"But Elena. We just got you back."

"No," I said. "You just saw me." You have to wait nineteen years until you get to see me – until you have me _back_. "One day. One day, I'll invite you out here."

"We'll spend winter break with you!"

"You don't even know where I am."

"France. Paris."

"It's bigger than you think it is. I have some things I need to work out. And so do you guys. Get the story from Ric. See if you can find Damon. But keep in touch. I've missed you guys."

"Come home for Christmas."

"I want to." I really did. "But you'll never let me go. And I need to know."

"Know what? Know what, Elena. Bonnie and I will help you, how_ever _we can."

_'I love him, sire bond or not.'_

"I love you guys. Do you want me to call you back on my computer, or are you just going to keep bothering me?"

"I'll have my mother track your internet connection."

"Congratulations," I said. "That would make you lose your only line of connection to me."

"Elena-"

"I have no life." That shut them up. "I'm a baby vampire. I'm barely nineteen. I lived in Virginia my whole life. I have no culture. You and Jeremy and Ric and Stefan and _Damon_ and _everyone _says I don't know what life or love, is. Maybe I don't. I'm _learning_. I'm _experiencing._ According to Ric, I'm _growing up_."

For a while, no one said anything.

"I'm sorry."

I focused on Caroline.

"I'm sorry. Let's talk, whenever we can. I miss you." She looked at Bonnie. "We're best friends, through and through, right? We're here, Elena. We'll _always _be here."

-x-

I didn't have much luck in Paris, but I was only there for two and a half weeks.

I got lost more times than I could count.

But getting lost was a huge help, actually. I found myself in a train station. There was an overnight train from Paris to Milan. There were trains from Milan to Genoa. I could ditch my car.

No. Way.

I stood, looking at a map, for a long, long time.

"Where are you trying to go?"

I looked to my left, to a boy around my age. "Everywhere." I laughed. "I figured out how to get home, though."

"Where are you trying to go, now?"

I smiled. "What should I see?"

- x -

Instead of a museum or a church or some other place, we hit a coffee shop, and then a group of street performers.

The sun had set before I even realized it was dark.

"Thank you."

"Why?"

It was dark. The only way I knew it was cold was because I could see my breath coming out in little frozen puffs. He was taller than I was, and sometime during the evening, he had come up behind me and held me. It was… sweet. Sort of. Mostly, it was torture.

"I had an… amazing night."

"How much of it did you understand?"

I grinned, even though he couldn't see. "Some. I only took four years, in high school. I could tell the songs from the melody."

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow night."

"Come back to my place."

"Trust me." I leaned back and breathed in. His cologne smelled almost as good as his blood. Almost. "It's a bad idea."

"Why?"

"Ever have a big, dark secret you can't tell someone?"

"Telling strangers helps."

I laughed. "You know what? Why not." I sat down on a bench and grinned at him. I could always compel him. "I'm a vampire."

"Alright." He shrugged. "Prove it." I smiled and showed him my teeth. "Can I touch them?" He sounded fascinated.

"No!" I pulled back, and retracted my teeth.

"Why not?"

"I'm hungry. They're sensitive. And I'm _hungry_."

"How did you do that? Are they, like, pressure activated? When you don't have pressure on your teeth, they grow?"

"You think I'm faking. Lying. Or I'm a copy cat." I gave him a cheesy grin, and grew my teeth.

"Right."He started to reach forward.

I stopped him again. "If I let you touch them, you have to feed me."

He grinned. Carefully, he reached forward and touched my canines.

I groaned. It _hurt_, but in a painfully _good _kind of way. There was only a thin sliver of skin separating me from the one thing I wanted most: blood.

"What was – what was that?"

I knew veins of hunger were rushing to my eyes, and when I opened them, they were red. He was frozen, hand still outreached, close to my face.

"You should leave." It took everything I had to close my mouth, even though my teeth didn't retract. "Run. Leave." I looked at him. "Please."

It was like he woke from a trace. He got up and bolted. I took a few deep breaths and, eventually, I was able to make my teeth look like normal.

I looked around, and knew which way he went. I saw him dart behind a tree. I ran. He leaned back, panting heavily, and when he opened his eyes, I was there.

"What the heck!"

"I told you! I'm a vampire!" I grinned. "Don't try touching my teeth again."

"I… I-"

"Still want me to come back to your place?" He paled. "I didn't think so. But you smell _so _good."

"Are you – are you going to kill me?"

"Oh, I want to. But I try not to kill people – it makes me feel _guilty_, and I don't like to feel _guilty_. But you touched my _teeth_. That's personal. The very _least _you could do is offer me some blood in return."

"Please. I… I have my mother, back home, and my little sister-"

"I can leave you alive," I said. "I have very good self control. No more than a pint – what you donate."

"But-"

"But you touched my teeth. I told you not to do that. I told you that you would have to feed me if you touched them."

"Please."

"Just a cup. Just a mouthful. I can stop." I leaned my body in front of him, and he tried to melt into the tree. I breathed. "Do you have any idea how _wonderful _you smell?"

"Please?"

"Oh, I'll let you go. But not until after I have some blood."

"I'll do anything."

"Of course you will. You'll give me some blood. If you don't fight it, it won't hurt." I breathed down his neck, hot. "Don't struggle."

"Please."

I bit down on the pulse, and it felt so _right _to give in. He was good, too, like a nicely aged brandy; tasty, good, and with a little bit of burn. And, true to my word, I pulled away shortly after.

"Good boy," I purred. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I… I want to go."

"You don't want to take me back to your place?"

"No…"

"Do I scare you?" He shuddered. "Awh, poor pretty boy, you don't have to be scared of me. I won't hurt you." I cut my tongue on my teeth and licked at the bite marks I had made and watched them disappear. Then I cleaned his neck. "All the better. No one will know anything. And." I kissed up his neck, and whispered in his ear. "I can make you forget, too. Do you want to forget this happened?"

"Please."

"Open your eyes, pretty boy." When he did, I said, "You won't remember any of this."

"I won't remember any of this." He blinked, and when he opened his eyes, he smiled. "You sure I can't convince you to come back to my place?"

"Sorry." I wanted to smile, but past experience told me my teeth were still covered in blood. "Maybe next time." When I don't want to kill you.

"Next time?"

"Thank you, for the offer." I smiled without teeth. "And I had a really nice time."

"Me, too."

"Maybe I'll see you around?"

He grinned. "I'd like that."

Me, too. Oh, _me, too_.

- x -

Back in my apartment, I felt horrible.

Sure, he wouldn't remember anything, but I still felt guilty. But I got some perverse, immense pleasure from playing with my food. It's like I went into 'vampire mode'. I didn't care about anything other than blood, and I'd do anything to get it.

Even flirt and compel.

It made me feel giddy – it made me feel _high_. There was no guilt. Only pleasure – or, knowing there was pleasure to come.

But that didn't mean I didn't feel guilt now.

I took a deep breath. 'Suck it up, Elena.'

Suck.

I was hungry again.

I wanted to hunt, but the guilt was still there. I found a hospital instead, and grabbed two bags: one for now and leftovers for breakfast, and one for my train tomorrow night.

I had a feeling I was going to love this train.

- x -

The only problem with a nine plus hour train ride was that I was _hungry_. The complimentary breakfast and bottle of water I got with my ticket wasn't doing it. I locked myself in the toilet and took deep breaths. Nobody burst in on me. I don't know if I was good or not.

Eleven hours without blood was too much. Blood would spoil if left out too long. I wondered how long it would last with an ice pack in an insulated lunch bag. Otherwise I would have to gorge before these train rides, and that was just as bad.

I either had to build up my tolerance or admit defeat that I'd have to dine on my travel companions. In Milan, I hit a hospital and made it back in time for my next train.

I had left most of my clothes that I had brought with in France. My hunting outfit was in my bag, and I wore a pair of skinny jeans and a nice sweater and my awesome boots. The only other things I had were my presents. I slipped in on the twenty third, and hid out in my apartment. Blood stash, oh how I love you.

I curled up on my bed with one bag, staring at the ceiling. I saw nothing. I rolled my head to the left, and pretended I could see Damon lying next to me. Of course, I couldn't, but I wanted to.

I closed my eyes.

_"Elena?"_

I opened my eyes and Damon was there, or almost there. How he rolled his face out of the pillow, looking around the room with stormy grey eyes laced with sleep. I didn't remember the exact words we exchanged, or which exact moment I was remembering, but it was always the same.

_"What's that face?"_

_"What face?"_

He was always so stoic. His strong jaw was set, his lips either serious or smirking. There was always mischief or plotting behind his eyes. This was a new look.

_"That face."_

It was a smile.

_"I'm happy."_

Well I'm not.

I broke eye contact with my dream-Damon and stared at the ceiling again, drinking from my bag. Eventually, I exchanged it for a bottle of bourbon.

Sire bond.

You don't love him. What you feel for him isn't real. You're only doing what he says because you're sired to him. If you weren't sired to him, you would feel differently. This isn't you, Elena. You are sired to Damon.

I loved him before I turned. When you make the transition from human to death and from death to vampire, everything is heightened, including love. I loved him, regardless if there was a sire bond or not. There wasn't. I just had no idea how to prove it.

If there was a sire bond, I couldn't have left.

Then one part of my brain argued with another part: Damon may not have said leave, but he didn't say 'stay' either. While sired, you could make your own decisions, but, above all, you wanted to make your 'master' happy.

I wanted to make Damon happy – I wanted to make him happy so _badly_.

But it was just like how I wanted to make Jenna happy. I wanted to make her and Ric, and my parents before they died, happy… and proud. I was on the cheer team, the debate team, and did Miss Mystic falls. It's not that they didn't make _me _happy, but I did them for my mom, and Bonnie and Caroline.

I liked the red dress and the blue dress. I liked them both the same. So when Damon said, 'the red dress', he was saying what he liked. Since I liked both, it didn't matter. To me, anyway. To everyone else, it was some kind of tragedy. I liked both dresses – equally.

And in vampire lore, 'sire' had a totally different meaning.

The 'sire' was the vampire that created you, and you were the 'childe'. To 'make' a vampire, you 'sired' them. So then yes, I was sired to Damon; I was his childe. That lore mentioned nothing about gratitude or love or doing whatever was told of them.

I needed to kick this operative in gear.

Or get drunk.

Yeah, get drunk. That sounded better.

* * *

AN: Feel free to point out any spelling/grammatical errors. I have no beta. All things are written in advance, left to sit for a few days, read and edited, left to sit, and read out loud before I post.

Any missing scenes you'd like to see/read, mention in a review. If I don't have them written, odds are I will write them.

Next Chapter: Christmas. (And our first (tiny) guest appearance from Damon.)


	5. Christmas

Dark skirt, warm brown sweater, tan tights, fancy boots, and curls in my hair tied off of my face with a red bow. That's how I answered the knock on my door.

"I see you're ready!" Nadia was smiling.

"Of course." I grabbed my coat off the hook and locked the door. "Merry Christmas."

"Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas," Greg echoed.

"We need good seats. Come on!"

I laughed. I wasn't in a good mood, but Nadia made me not-hurt, and that was always something to look forward to.

"We have a ham, cooking in the oven," Greg said. "You'll come over after the service and eat with us?"

"And share presents," I said, smiling. And a bag of blood on the sly.

"How was Paris?"

"Beautiful. Cold. We got a little snow."

"Really!"

We had yet to have a snow fall. Supposedly, only once or twice a year we got snowflakes, but they never stuck to the ground. So far, the coldest it had been was seven degrees. I shivered just thinking about it. The conversion made it better; only about forty four or forty five degrees. I would miss the snow, even the little we got.

Our apartments were close to everything. There was a street market, just around the corner. There was a bar across the street on the corner, and several fancy bars and restaurants a few blocks down. In the other direction was their church. A third way and we'd eventually run into the beach. I could walk to the post office and Nadia could walk to her school.

I loved it.

The only thing that would make now _perfect_, is if I was walking with Damon.

Jesus. I couldn't even go five minutes without thinking of him.

More digging suggested that the 'sire' bond was only effective within a certain mile radius. Was he close, and that's why I was thinking of him? I glanced around, and saw plenty of other people walking to church, but none of them looked familiar. I tilted my head up, and breathed in the cool air. Was I out of the 'certain radius'?

Or did I just miss him because I loved him?

"I'm sorry." I looked over at Nadia, confused. "Who are you missing most at Christmas? I know that face." I smiled. "Do you have a boyfriend, at home?"

"Not anymore." I hovered, just outside.

_'You are only eighteen, only a baby, but don't go, baby vampire, don't go.'_

"I'm a baby." I took a deep breath and sighed it out. "I have zero culture, remember. My step-dad thinks I'm too young. To do anything, long term. I'm too young to date, too young to think of engagement and marriage. I'm too young to think of kids and settling down."

"But not too young to travel Europe alone?" Greg asked, smirking.

Finally, I let Nadia lead us into church. "He didn't really have a say. It wasn't me he talked out of dating my boyfriend. He convinced my boyfriend."

"How old is your boyfriend?"

One hundred and seventy one. "Twenty four."

"That's not much of an age difference," Nadia said.

"Sometimes it feels like a century and a half."

"Well if he didn't convince you, why are you here?"

"Growing up. Traveling. Living, loving, experiencing." Finding out if this sire bond is real and, if it is, how to break it. So when I finally go back home, and say, 'I love you, Damon,' everyone will have to believe me.

There were three services offered. Four and eight were in Italian, but the six pm service was a healthy mix of Italian and English.

I was more than surprised.

I had been to several Sunday services with them, and a few during the week, and they were all in Italian.

It was an uplifting sermon about Christ and his birth. I loved the songs and the music the most.

Afterwards, Nadia introduced me to a lady.

"Elena, this is Francesca. She lives across the street from us."

"Ciao. This is Massimo and Priscilla. Say hi to the lady."

"Hi."

"Ciao."

The littler one, the girl, snuggled into her mother, and it reminded me that I wasn't human. Good little girl, I wanted to say. Be scared of me. Please.

"Merry Christmas."

It was seven thirty as we were leaving.

"The ham will not be done for another half hour or so," Greg said when we reached our gate. "But I bought a wonderful bottle of wine."

"Let me grab my things," I said, "and I'll be right over."

"Do you need help with anything?" I unlatched my gate, and unlocked my door, grabbing the bag from inside.

"If you want to take this, that would be nice." Greg took the bag. "Five minutes. I swear."

I enjoyed a bag of blood and brushed my teeth before I went over.

I knocked on the door with my elbow.

"What!"

I was carrying my fake fireplace.

"There is no such thing as Christmas without a fire. This will have to do."

Nadia laughed and moved a chair. I put the fireplace right by the tree, and saw that she had placed my presents with hers.

We had ham and potatoes, green beans, jellied cranberries, and warm apple pie.

I gave Greg a box of his favorite cigars, and Nadia a new set of oil paints. I bought them a movie they wanted, and a CD I thought they'd enjoy, and another bottle of wine for later tonight.

From Greg I got a book on witches, a pass to a few museums, and recommendations from his brother which other museums to check out, both in Germany and in Florence. Nadia gave me the painting she had been working on.

It was _beautiful_.

It was the coastline from the city Nino lived in. The lighthouse was in it, and the boathouse, and a sunset. It would go right above my couch and never leave.

Finally, I opened a pair of fluffy, warm brown earmuffs.

"You liked mine, so much. Now we can be twins!"

I laughed, but was happy. We looked nothing alike. Nadia had vibrant blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a very, very pale complexion for someone who wasn't a vampire. She was little, like I was, but she was shorter, and she had a fair amount of freckles spread over the bridge of her nose.

I wasn't a fan of black. Even my hunting outfit wasn't all black. Dark brown boots, dark wash jeans, dark colored sweaters… the only thing black that I wore while hunting was my leather jacket. But for normal, everyday wear, I had a brown little pea coat.

"But we saved the best for last."

"Yes." Nadia was beaming. "It's not a present, really, but news."

"Oh?"

"I'm pregnant."

I laughed. "Ha! No way! Congratulations! That's wonderful!"

"A baby!" Nadia said, smiling. Now the warm glow made sense. "We're so excited!"

"Congratulations," I said again, and meant it. "When is baby due?"

"Middle of June."

"A June baby. Congratulations."

I sat with them, late into the night, talking about silly subjects and things we wanted to do, places we wanted to go. We drank more wine, and Nadia was more than happy with warm apple cider. I was only paying half attention.

I was listening to everything else. The fireplace hummed, didn't crackle like it was supposed to. And, the harder I listened, the more I heard. They had a clock, in the bathroom, and the radiator just kicked on in their third story. Someone walking on the sidewalk.

And then I heard it.

A tiny, little, but steady, heartbeat, coming from Nadia's stomach.

I smiled. The miracle of life, after all. The best kind of news on Christmas.

-x-

After early service with Nadia and Greg on Christmas morning, I went back to my apartment and took a nap.

I had a late breakfast, or early lunch, around eleven, of leftover ham from yesterday. I did laundry, but mainly sat in front of my fireplace, drinking fine wine, listening to Christmas music, paging through the book from Greg and his brother.

I also splurged on blood – lots and lots of blood. It was my Christmas present to myself. Later tonight – maybe early tomorrow morning – I would go out and hunt, too. Fresh human blood was the best.

_"__Chapter two: food. Fresh human blood is the best, blood bags are second, and animal blood is decent in a pinch." "Subchapter: they can still eat human food, as long as they keep a diet of blood."_

Christmas was an acceptable time to be thinking of Damon; he was family.

But that memory wasn't just Damon: Ric was part of that, too.

I put my laptop on the table, and started it up. I finally got dressed and presentable, putting on another fancy outfit. I had another blood bag and brushed my teeth, and filled my wine glass up.

Skype time.

I was only on a few minutes before I got my call.

"Elena?"

"Jeremy."

"I miss you so much."

"I miss you, too, Jeremy. More than you can believe." I traced his face with my finger and ached to be back home, if only for Christmas.

"Where are you?"

"In Italy. Is-"

"Everybody is here. And I mean everybody. I'm hogging you, first." I smiled, and so did he. "I miss you, Elena."

"Oh, I miss you, too."

"You heard Ric and Damon talking, didn't you?" I didn't say anything. "And that's why you left. Because of Ric, not Damon."

"Damon couldn't make up his mind. I made it up for him."

"But Elena-"

"That's why I'm here. I'm going to find some stupid way to prove that this sire bond is a complete farce."

"I believe you."

"It feels like you're the only one."

"Damon-"

"Damon doesn't. Not all the way. But even if I am sired to him-"

"-which you're not-"

I grinned. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

"But even if I am sired to him, the sire bond doesn't affect feelings, just actions."

"Elena. Elena, it's me and Ric. Bonnie and Caroline are here, and so is Sheriff Forbes. Tyler and Matt and Vicki. And Stefan. But no Damon."

"It's okay."

"Okay." He took a deep breath. "I'm on my phone. I'm going to hang up and call you back from my laptop, down in the living room. You ready for this?"

"You bet I am. All that I have to do is shut my laptop if things get out of hand. You have my username, now. I may not always be on my phone, with the time difference and everything, but I'm here for you. Now. I'm sorry I left, Jeremy."

"It's okay. I still hate you for it, but it's okay. I understand."

"If I let anyone visit, it's going to be you, Jeremy."

"I have all of your things. I'll send whatever you want."

"I would love some pictures. That hurts the most."

"Then later tonight, when Ric is sleeping or something, I'll dig through and get all the pictures I can find."

"Don't worry about frames. I can find those here."

"I thought you were in Paris?"

"I was, a few days ago. I have an apartment here, and one in Paris. But call me back. You can hog me tonight, all you want."

It was the most painful five minutes of my life.

Then my computer screen filled with all my friends and family.

"Hi."

"Elena."

"Hey, hold on." Stefan disappeared for a second and then everyone looked away.

"It's like you're _here_," Bonnie said.

"I connected Jeremy's laptop to the TV."

"Hi." I waved and smiled and couldn't believe it. "Oh, I've missed you guys."

"And…" Everything moved, and I they were looking at me again. "Would have helped to move the video cam," Jeremy said.

"How are you, Elena?" Sheriff Forbes asked. "Really?"

"I'm great. I miss you guys, but I'm _great_. It's amazing. I love it, here."

"Where is 'here'?" Vicki asked.

"Somewhere in Italy. When I'm convinced no one's going to come hunt me down, I'll give you the equivalent of a PO Box."

"Why not now?"

"Because I was stupid and got it within a thirty kilometer radius from my apartment."

"Kilometer?" Tyler asked, laughing.

"Yeah. The transition is a lot harder than you'd think. When I asked the salesman for a rug about three by six for my kitchen, he led me to these _huge_ rugs, and I was so confused. That's, like, nine by eighteen there. And there he was, wondering why I needed such a big area rug for my kitchen."

"Can you show us around?" Bonnie asked. "I mean, we saw your place in Paris-"

"You're living in _Paris_, too?" Matt asked.

"Yes. I am. I started in Rome and made my way north. Genoa, or Genova, as the locals call it, Marseille, Barcelona, Valencia. Oh, Almeria. Lisbon. I've spent time in Madrid. There's, like, a ten hour night train from Paris to Madrid. I've only been on it once, a few nights ago, but, Jesus, let me tell you, that thing is amazing. I don't have parking, here, and, really, it's better walking around here _and _Paris than driving."

"Is there anywhere you _haven't _been?" Liz joked.

"Yeah. I haven't hit Germany or Greece, yet. Part of me wants to visit Bulgaria, you know." I shrugged. "To see where I came from."

"There are still some Saltzman in Germany," Ric said. "I can hook you up."

"I just might take you up on that."

"What's your favorite part?"

I looked at Jeremy. "Everything."

"Name one," Caroline said.

"The food. If I could get fat, I'd be huge, by now. The meals, here in Italy, are huge."

"You don't have to order an antipasto, primo, secondo, and dolce at every meal," Stefan said.

I grinned. "That's a hard part. The language barrier. I took an intro to Italian course, but it didn't do much. If I need to get anything major done, I bring along my neighbour."

"More favorites," Caroline urged.

"America is such a _baby_. It constantly amazes me how old everything is. There's a church, around the corner, that was constructed in the 1700's." I looked at Stefan and grinned. "That's older than you."

He laughed. "Thanks. I think."

"Have you made any friends?"

"None as good as you two!" I assured Bonnie. "But yes, I've made a few friends. Which surprises me. Not many people are scared of me."

"You're not the typical vampire," Stefan said.

"Thanks. I think."

"Can we still see your place?" Ric asked. "You know. You're so far away, Elena."

"Yeah, sure." I unplugged my laptop and stood up. "This is my little living room."

"You're not kidding about little," Matt said.

"Well. Normally my rocking chair isn't in the middle of the room. But." I turned so they could see my little tree.

"Awh."

"And my little table," I said.

"How's the wine?" Liz asked.

"Better than you can imagine. There are lots of shops that sell alcohol. I have a list I've started, my favorites and where I got them. My little desk. Oh. My little radiator. It has to heat the whole room, so I bought this little beauty."

"A fireplace!" Vicki said.

"Yeah. Yeah, I got spoiled having one at home." And half a dozen at The Ritz. "I miss it." I missed the fireplace, home, and The Ritz.

"It's lit," she added, glancing away..

"And my little itty bitty kitchen."

"You don't have a refrigerator?" Tyler asked.

"I do. It's this little thing. But that let me have a washer and dryer, under the stairs. Plus, you know. I don't really eat much? I love my tea kettle, though."

"Very bright."

"My little bedroom. But my favorite part about it is this." I turned the laptop so they could see. "It's a built in armoire. The detail is astounding. I have a normal bathroom, so we'll pass that. And upstairs-"

"You have _three _floors?" Jeremy asked.

"Yeah, well, my whole place is little, remember? I have a daybed, and my patio. I _love _it. I spend a lot of time, up here. Keeps me warm, in the summer. I have an umbrella, for the table, but I put it away because I don't really need it now. And that's it."

"It's micro, compared to your place in Paris," Bonnie said.

"I didn't need much room. I _don't_." I stepped out on the patio and turned the laptop so they could see. "My neighbours, Nadia and Greg, and I go there for drinks, pretty frequently. Just around the corner and forward, a bit, is an awesome street market. Farther down, that way," I pointed, "are more shops and restaurants and bars. Church is that way. Beach is behind me."

"Beach?" Caroline perked up.

"Not quite close enough. And there are so many other things to do that I don't get to go, much."

"What do you do, then?" Ric asked.

"Visit places with a lot of culture. Churches are very prominent around here. I go to a lot of museums and landmarks and parks. Gelato is pretty amazing. I go to class. There's a family, across the street, who's asked me to tutor their son in English. It seems like a very lucrative offer, considering how much they're willing to pay for an hour or two a week. Oh. The exchange rate sucks, by the way."

"When are you coming back?" Ric asked, and I started to skip down the steps.

'You should know,' I wanted to spit. "Eventually."

"Eventually?" I looked at Matt. "Within my lifetime?"

"Yeah. Not soon, but yeah. Within your lifetime."

I looked, but didn't see Rebekah. He had spent the summer, with her, and they had this occasional on-again off-again relationship. His problem was he had no inclination to become a vampire; she wanted nothing more than to be human. For now, it was working.

"Please come back," Vicki said. "So much has changed."

"We miss you," Caroline said.

"We _really_ miss you," Bonnie echoed.

I ached. "I miss you guys, too." There was a knock on my door. "Hey, hold on." I opened it.

"Hey. I just wanted to ask if you were still coming to mass with us, tonight."

"Yeah. Yeah, hang on." I grabbed my laptop and turned it to her. "Guys, this is Nadia. She's my friend and neighbour, and a wonderful translator. Nadia, this is my family and friends. I'll meet you in a few minutes."

She looked ready to object, but I glared at her. "Alright."

Quietly, she closed the door.

"But Elena," Ric said. "We just got you back."

"You didn't get me back." I had just had this conversation with Bonnie and Caroline. "One day. Not now."

"Since when do you go to mass?" Jeremy asked, grinning.

"Since Nadia asked me to. It doesn't make any sense, since it's all in Italian, but it makes her happy, so I go."

"Really?" Rick asked.

"Hey. It's a horribly sad reminder than I'm damned." No one said anything. "But I go."

"Elena." I looked at Stefan. "Come back."

"You'll see me again." I ached, looking at them. "I promise."

"Elena-"

"I have to go. I have mass – church – with Nadia and Greg. I'll talk to you guys, once in a while. I'll give you my address, soon enough. But I have to go."

"We love you!" Caroline said.

"I love you, too. I'll see you. Soon enough."

I hung up, not letting them get anything else in edgewise. It had been going great until a few minutes ago. The ten or so minutes we talked wasn't enough, but it would hold me over. Plus, I had recorded the whole thing so I could watch it anytime I wanted.

I grabbed my coat and put my boots on, meeting Nadia and Greg at the gate.

"I'm sorry," she said, immediately. "Had I know-"

"It's okay," I insisted. "_Really_. I love them, but. I need this. They don't understand." I turned my face up and breathed in. "I need this."

"Hey." I looked over at Greg, but he was looking up, instead. "It's snowing, after all."

I watched a few flakes falling gently, so differently, but exactly the same as at home. When they touched the railing, the gate, the bushes, the ground, they stayed true to their form for a second, and then proceeded to melt.

"It's pretty," Nadia said.

"It's the perfect end to Christmas."

-x-

"Need an ear?"

I snorted, looking up from my empty glass. It would be cheaper to drink at home. "I'm just in an 'I hate life' phase, right now."

"So soon after Christmas?"

"I'm surprised you speak English." Actually, I wasn't all that surprised. It seemed everyone I met spoke at least some English. How was I supposed to work on my Italian if we only spoke English?

"Yeah, well." He looked around the little bar. It was farther away from my house – apartment – but it was homelier, and a lot smaller. It was currently empty. I'm pretty sure close was an hour ago. He kept pouring me drinks; I kept drinking them. "We don't get many tourists here. But I have family in America. I take it, that's where you're from?"

"Yeah. I've been here… six months, now?"

"Like it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, but I miss home."

"How many times have you been home?"

"None. And I don't plan on it."

"Why not?"

Instead, I ask, "What's a Bloody Mary?"

"Basically vodka and tomato juice. Promise. No blood."

I cringed. The one thing I wanted. I mean, yeah, I _knew _there would be no blood in it but I _hoped_. "Another bourbon, please."

He poured one, and one for himself, too. "I'm all ears, if you ever need it." He was leaning against the bar on his forearms, staring at me. He was trying not to give me a full smile, but there was a graceful upward turn to his lips. "There's more to you than meets the eye." He pointed the bottle at me before setting it down behind the counter. "I'm sure of it."

He had to be no more than twenty five. I highly even doubted he was that old. Unlike everyone else I met, he actually had black hair. And I mean black, not dark brown, and certainly not blonde. Maybe it was the lighting, but it even looked like it had a blue sheen, and it brought out his bright, vivid blue eyes. He was clean shaven, and I highly even doubted he was shaving yet. He looked _good_.

"I'm a vampire," I blurted before I could stop myself.

"Like a real, honest to God vampire? Teeth and all?" I hissed, showing him my teeth. "But you got here while it was still light out."

I held up my hand with my ring. "This lets me go outside."

"And you asked about a Bloody Mary because you're hungry?"

"I'm starving."

"But you ate a hamburger."

"Yup. I can eat garlic, too."

"Mirrors?"

"Myth. Along with holy water. I even go to church."

There, he laughed. "A vampire who goes to church. Now I've heard it all. Would you like an _actual _Bloody Mary?"

"There's a thing?"

"No. But I'm sure I can spare a cup or two of blood." I couldn't stop the hunger from flooding to my face, and knew my eyes were rapidly turning red. "Holy shit, you weren't kidding. You're _actually _a vampire?"

"Yup. This shit is for _real_."

"How have you, like. Not killed anyone tonight?" I held up my drink. "Seriously?"

"Alcohol helps, believe it or not. But please. Don't offer that again. You still don't really believe me, do you?"

"Yes. And no. My mom's side of the family has a pretty firm belief in witchcraft. Up until right now, I thought it BS."

"My best friend is a witch."

"Jesus _shit_. You're serious."

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"You're not, like, going to kill me, are you?"

_If I wanted to kill you, I already would have done it._ "Nawh. I'll probably make you forget it, though."

"You can do that?"

"Yup."

He laughed and slammed his drink. "Can you make me forget my ex?"

"I could. I can make you forget, but the pain will still be there. That's the shitty part."

"Who cares about the pain? I just want to forget her face."

"Again, not easy. If you run into her, you can't be all like, who the eff are you?"

"What can you do?"

I wiggled my finger closer, and looked into his eerie blue eyes. "Wait. Hold up. What's your last name?"

"Caro?"

"Not Salvatore?"

"No?"

"Okay." I took a deep breath, ignoring the smile that lighted his face. "You and your girlfriend broke up. You won't get back together with her, even if she begs you. You will let yourself be happy – without her. You will pick up a book or a movie or a game you've wanted to buy – maybe even one she thought was stupid. You will see a cute girl and no longer feel guilty when you talk to her. You will only smile when you mean it." I hesitated. "Unless it's work-wise. Can't have you not smiling at your customers."

He snorted. "What else you got?"

"What else you want?"

All of a sudden, he was in my face. "What's it like?"

"What?" He was so close, I had to chose which eye to look at. "What is _what _like?"

"The blood?" I pulled back and turned around, eyes burning red, fangs growing even though I tried my best to stop them.

"Don't. Don't. You have _no idea_."

"How long have you been a vampire?"

"Not quite a year. You remember going through puberty?"

"You mean wood at even the slightest provocation?"

"God." I turned around once my face was normal. "I think I have a thing for your vocabulary."

"I was in and out of the country so much it wasn't even funny."

"But yeah. Amplify that by about one thousand. And then on top of being horny, you also want blood. And not just blood – _which is fucking everywhere_ – but to _kill _people. Your best friend. Your family." I leaned back with my drink, grinning, toasting to him. "Your bartender."

"Would you-"

"Yes. God, yes. But it's a horrible idea."

"Why?"

"Because you seem like a very nice guy."

"I can be bad." He waggled his eyebrows.

"How about this." I caught his gaze again. "You can't tell anybody, even the witches, about my vampire side."

"I won't tell anybody."

"You'll think about the offer, but you won't do anything stupid."

He snorted. "What's stupid?"

I compelled, "You won't purposely cut yourself while I'm here. And you will do your damndest to avoid all accidents while I'm around. And you will _never _offer blood when you're within arm's reach."

He shook his head and shivered. "That was weird."

"I compelled you. Meaning, unless you're on vervain, you'll have to obey."

"And if I don't?"

I snorted. "There is no 'if you don't'. This won't let you."

"And how do you know I'm not on vervain?" Suddenly, I was right next to him. "Holy shit."

"I told you. This is real." Instead, I took a deep, deep breath. "Because you smell _good_."

"You want to." He pulled back, and tugged at his collar. "Want to come back to my place?"

I was sitting down across the bar from him again. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"

"Excuse me? I just came on to you and-"

"I'm a fucking vampire, dude."

"Sam."

"Elena. I'm a fucking vampire, Sam. I'm supposed to be scary."

He laughed, and it was shaky. Shaky like he was turned on, not shaky like he was scared. "Sorry, but you have to be the most alluring person I've ever met. And that's including my ex."

"Thanks. I think."

"Can I. You know."

"No. I have no idea until you say it."

"Can I, like. Experiment with drinks?"

"No. I will know the _second _I step in here if you have some kind of concoction waiting for me."

"How's that work?"

"Blood is the _one _thing I want, more than anything. I want to kill and hunt and rip and feast." I listened. "Your heart rate just went up." It did again. "And this time it's because you're scared, not because you're turned on."

He laughed, this time because of nerves. "You can tell that?"

"I can hear your heartbeat. What aren't you going to do?"

"Tell. And do something stupid."

"What _are _you going to do?"

"Not feel guilty. And buy that video game I've wanted."

"Good, boy." He rolled his eyes. "I'll be back in a few weeks."

When I was at the door, he asked, "Do all vampires have such self control?"

"They have to, to some degree. It makes blending in with humans that much easier. But I know several vampires who wouldn't have been the last one in here, like me. If you had been bleeding, I can guarantee you, you'd be missing a lot of blood. I'll be back."

"I'll hold you to it."

I rolled my eyes this time. "I'd like to see you try. You know my name."

"Elena."

"You know nothing else. You don't even know how hold I am."

"You're twenty three."

I grinned. "Nope. I compelled you to let nineteen year old me drink. So thank you."

"What!"

"Yup. I'm a baby. Thanks, though. I'll see you."

Outside, I shoved my hands in my pocket. Interesting. I thought, on my way home. Would it even be possible, to mix blood and alcohol? Blood and food? It would be _totally _awesome to open some kind of bar for vampires.

I grinned, remembering a conversation with Damon – one that didn't hurt.

_"I mean. It's not like we all hang out at The Vamp Bar and Grille."_

Now I _would _have to experiment. The Vamp Bar and Grille. I wondered if Sam would let me put it above his little place.

I unlocked my door around two, still in a great mood. I booted up my laptop, replaying the conversation from Christmas. I snuggled up on my couch, fireplace on at full blast, and muted the video. I didn't need to hear them. I just wanted to look at them. Again and again.

I took a few screen shots.

Bonnie.

Caroline. Caroline and her mom.

Ric. Ric and Jeremy. Jeremy.

At the end, something flickered outside the living room window, but I kept going.

I repeated.

And repeated.

God, I missed them. It was even nice to see Stefan, even though he wasn't the Salvatore I wanted to see.

Then the flick happened again. I rewound, and looked at it again.

Paused.

Zoomed in.

Saw nothing.

At normal speed, zoomed out, there was something there.

Something there and gone too quickly for my laptop to play.

I downloaded some program on the internet.

When I played it in slow motion, the whole way through, I realized that the flicker was just something moving.

The flicker was there the whole time.

It was a crow.

My heart soared, and my already elated mood went along with it.

* * *

AN: I hope you enjoyed the tiny guest appearance played by Damon. (It is in reference to the book. I will totally admit, I am more of a fan of the TV series.)

Please point out any spelling/grammatical errors. This is not my usual style of writing, and with the thousands of words I churn out every week (for this story and my fiction and others), there are bound to be mistakes; I am only human. I am a grammar stickler. Your/you're, their/there/they're, and to/too/two misuses makes me want to cry. (As do tense changes. This originally started out in third person and I had to rewrite the first two chapters or so.)

Any missing scenes you'd like to see/read, mention in a review. If I don't have them written, odds are I will write them.

Next Chapter: Elena visits Bulgaria. She runs into two vampires, has a few flashbacks about how _she_ became a vampire, and has a run-in with a cult leader.


	6. Sheer Desperation

"I'm going to head out again."

Nadia looked at me with a little smile. A few weeks ago, not too long after Christmas, I disappeared for a few days, scaring Nadia. I don't know why she was so scared; maybe because I had missed mass.

"Thank you for telling me."

"Where to, this time?"

I was hovering just outside the threshold to their house, suitcase already packed. "Bulgaria." I had _no _idea why. Germany didn't seem appropriate, yet, but, at the same time, I wanted something that meant more to me. Again, not that Bulgaria meant anything. It was hard to explain. "I want to see if I can find any information on my relatives." That was a bold faced lie. "I know that record probably doesn't go back that far, but." I shrugged.

"How far do you mean?"

"Fourteen hundreds." I shrugged again. "Maybe fifteen hundreds. I mean, people lived shorter lives back then, so that's, you know… a… rough… estimate." Fourteen hundred seventy three; 1473; five hundred thirty eight years ago. No matter how you looked at it, it was a _long _time ago. "Trust me. Germany is important, too. This is just… something I can't explain."

"Don't worry," Greg said, shaking his head, smiling. "I understand. It's no big deal, anyway."

"A rough guess as to when you'll be back? Just so I'm not freaking out again?"

"How about… I call you, every few days. I just have a one-way ticket. I'll be there as long as needed."

"Understandable. I think." She made a face. "I just miss you."

I laughed, and hugged her. "I miss you, too." Who wouldn't miss the two people they'd become closest to once leaning all family behind? "I have one more place to visit before my plane. I will be sure to call. Promise."

Promise was a word I never used, and I hoped I didn't have to break it.

I hopped in the cab that was waiting for me, and we went to the bank, first. I had all of my money. I was going through it fairly quickly. But that was because I was _buying _things, not compelling them. It was time to visit my go-to banker again.

"Ciao," I was welcomed.

"Ciao," I returned. "I would like to speak to Mr. Lombardi."

"Right this way."

His smile faltered upon seeing me. "Miss Gatti. What can I do for you today?"

"How good are you at investing? Turning large sums of money into even larger sums?"

Finally, his smile was real. _This _is what he lived for, and I was giving him an answer to his dreams.

-x-

I landed from the plane ride, cranky, in one of the foulest moods ever. The man I was sitting next to on the plane was a horribly annoying man. He was also drunk and sleazy. I decided to make him my landing snack, and inflicted as much pain on him as I could whilst doing so.

I found a more-than-decent hotel, in a more than decent part of town, and compelled the best price they could offer me.

I didn't know where Katherine was from, and I didn't care to find out, either.

Suddenly, I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to be anywhere near Katherine, or Katarina. I wanted to be as far away from her as possible. I sat down on a bench, resting my elbows on my knees, digging my palms into my eyes. I wanted Damon. I wanted Damon and Jeremy and Ric. I wanted-

"It's funny, really." God, don't cry. Not here, not now. "Running into you, here." I didn't say anything. Only then did I remember I was wearing makeup. Great. The one time I actually decided to wear makeup, I rubbed my eyes and cried it off. "Happy Belated Holidays, Elena." Still, I didn't say anything. "Come, now. Is that any greeting?"

I pulled back, looking at my white mittens, stained black with my mascara. "Happy January Sixth, Elijah."

His bare hand wiped the tears away, but I didn't say anything else. "What brings you to Bulgaria?"

"Sheer desperation. And boredom."

"I can show you around Katerina's-"

"You _do not _get to mention her to me. Not you."

His lip quirked, but that was the end of that conversation. "I'm surprised Damon has left you alone."

Great. Another bout of tears. I looked away. The gloves were already ruined, so what difference did it make? "Why are you here?" was all I could manage.

"I was in the area. Bulgaria is a very pretty place in winter. Don't you agree?"

"Thrilling," I said, lacing the syllables with sarcasm. "I'm more fond of beaches and sunshine."

"Where is Damon, Elena?"

"In Virginia. Where he and everybody else can believe in the sire bond. I'll live the rest of my life, alone, because, God forbid, the sire bond is _real_, and what Damon and I have, _that's _fake."

"Do you-"

"Just shut up, Elijah. Please. It's Christmas, for God's sake."

He was so quiet, I thought he had left. On the very small of my back, he put his hand, leaving it there for only a second. But I was a vampire, now, and knew that had actually happened. "There's a Dive Bar, not far from here. Tell them Elijah sent you. They have a wonderful Bloody Mary."

"You know they have no blood in them."

"Theirs do."

When I looked up, he was gone.

And I was hungry.

Damn it.

I took a deep breath. "You know what?" I said, out loud. Even though I couldn't see him, he was probably nearby. "Fuck it. If you want to show me around, show me around." When I opened my eyes from a blink, he was right in front of me. "But you have to feed me first."

"Language," he chided, but with a smile on his face. I didn't smile. "Do you eat people? Or am I to assume you're on a Stefan-diet?"

"I… feed off of people, yes. Eating them sounds weird."

"Snatch and grab?"

"I like to refer to it as 'lure and let live'." He looked at me with a tilt to his head. Great, now I felt self-conscience. "What?"

"It fits you," was all he said.

-x-

The area where Katherine had grown up was completely overgrown with trees, now. Not a single thing remained, but that was to be expected after five hundred odd years.

"I was here when Niklaus killed her family. At the time, there wasn't a thing I could have done – would have done. I would not go against his wishes; we were brothers."

"And now? If this were my house, my family?"

"Klaus has changed, and so have I; I would not hesitate to step in his way."

I jumped up in a tree, finding a sturdy branch, and settled in, trying to ignore the fact that I was in a skirt. Surprisingly, even in his suit, Elijah joined me.

"Why are you here?"

"Do you know anything about the 'sire' bond?"

"The bond, no."

"What do you mean, _the _bond?"

"You don't… make a vampire; you sire them. I have heard the rumors about a bond."

"And what are those rumors?"

"Let's go back to siring a vampire, first." I nodded. "I take it, it was Damon's blood that turned you?"

.

_Jenna was dead, Jeremy and Matt weren't dead, Caroline and Bonnie weren't with me, Ric was God knows where. What about Damon? Damon and Stefan?_

_Damon._

_I turned around. There was a pain, in my chest, where my heart was – where the pain should have came from. My life was gone – my heart was dead – but I still had that metaphorical heart, and it told me Damon was in front of me. In the hospital. A few floors above me. Something was trying to pull me to him._

_But he should already be with me!_

_Damon and Stefan._

_Damon!_

_Damon!_

_I fell to my knees again, head hitting the asphalt, trying to bring pain that I couldn't feel._

_DAMON!_

_"Please."_

.

I blinked back at Elijah. I was surprised that he had let me drift off. "Yeah. Yes. It was Damon's blood."

"Did you it was Damon's blood in your system that caused your transformation?" I nodded. "You remember that bond?"

.

_Where was Damon? Of all the people, he should not have left me alone._

_My heart – my dead heart – said he was still in the same place. My dead heart was still trying to pull me to him, so I didn't the only thing he knew how to do. I did the only thing he ever did. I ran._

.

"Remember it? I can't forget it."

"You can still feel it." It wasn't a question. He was… impressed. Shocked.

"Yes."

"That bond? That pull?" He managed to make a shrug look graceful. "That's because he's your sire; you're his childe. He created you. Your body knew – knows – where he is. You knew when he was in trouble."

.

_Just as quickly as they had stopped, they both started fighting again._

_I could no longer ignore the pull. Stefan – this horrible thing was attacking mine. And I had to stop it. He was mine and I was his, no one could hurt him._

.

"Yes."

"And he knew when you were in trouble."

I purposely blocked that memory from flooding me. "Enough of a trip down memory lane, please."

He appeased me. "There is, of course, a rumor that the bond amplifies when the human is in love with their sire before they're turned. I assume that's the case here." I didn't say anything. "In a normal sire-childe relationship, the baby vampire wants to make their creator happy. It… it's taken to an extreme, with the 'sire bond'."

"You're putting air quotes around it, just like I am," I pointed out, even though he wasn't doing it physically.

"These are rumors, Elena. I was one of the first vampires created. The 'sire bond' would not have applied to me. I imagine the 'sire bond' to look similar to the bonds my brother made with his hybrids. But that was made out of gratitude. And yours was not. Yours was based off of love. I can only imagine that changes things."

"So. Klaus's hybrids broke the bond by 'embracing' their wolf, by transforming over and over again until it didn't hurt. Right?" He nodded. "How – how do I break that bond with Damon?"

"Why would you want to break it?"

"Everybody… everybody thinks my feelings are part of the bond, too. Even Damon doesn't fully believe that I love him – that it's not the sire bond. I… I can't stay away, but I can't have everybody thinking my love isn't real." Suddenly, I snorted.

"What do you find funny?"

"I'm having a conversation about love with you, right over the very spot your brother massacred my ancestors entire family. Irony."

He smiled. "What are you doing about it? About this sire bond?"

"What makes you think I'm doing anything about it?"

"Because you're asking me."

I sighed and reached into my jacket, taking out a flask. I offered it to him, but he just shook his head, so I downed the entire thing. "I'm researching witches, vampires, and werewolves. Sounds stupid, I know, but I figure the folklore had to stem from somewhere, right? So I hit up muesuems. Like, all the time. I've found some really grotesque paintings and I wonder how some of them started. Then again, like you and Klaus, they were probably started to throw people off."

"Point made."

"If there is a 'sire bond'," I said, slowly, "somewhere, out there, there is a way to 'break' it."

"What makes you so sure?"

"There is a 'cure' for everything. Maybe we just haven't found it."

We sat there, enjoying the absolute silence. We stayed like that until the sun started to rise.

"I have a favorite painting," he said. "Witches. It is in little Bulgarian museum not far from here. I'll take you there and bid you farewell. I'll look you up."

We hopped down and I rubbed my butt. I may be a vampire, but that didn't mean getting up after a long time sitting didn't feel good. "Thank you."

We walked out, at a human pace.

-x-

"Hey."

We weren't supposed to be on phones in the museum, but I was the only one currently in the room so I thought 'screw it'.

"Elena! It's so good to hear from you."

I couldn't help the smile. After an emotional day with Elijah, Nadia was just what I needed. "You, too." Somehow, I missed her bubbly personality. Maybe… maybe in some little way, she reminded me of Caroline.

"What are you up to?"

"I'm at a museum."

"Another museum, Elena? Really?"

I laughed. "Really. Yesterday, I was part of a tour group to some destroyed village several hundred years ago. It was kinda interesting." Tour group? The lies were coming too easily, now, and I felt instantaneously guilty.

"And not a museum. I'm impressed."

"I thought you would be."

"Are you going to mass tomorrow?"

Whoa. Sudden change in topic, much? "Probably not. But… I can be home for next Sunday, if you would like me to."

"It's just – we miss you, Elena. You're part of our Sunday routines."

"Awh." Even though I wasn't too big on church (being 'damned' and all), Nadia and Greg had become a big part of my Sunday routine, too. "I'll be home on Sunday, if just for mass."

- x -

Saturday afternoon, true to my word, I flew back home to surprise Nadia and Greg.

Dinner was excellent, the company was wonderful, and even my bed was heaven-sent. Mass was okay, too. All of it was in Italian (it all had been, except for Christmas Eve), so I barely understood any of it, but it was nice to have this routine back with Nadia and Greg.

Monday morning, I flew back out to Bulgaria. I found a little place not far from Katherine's birthplace. It was a little too rustic, too old-world-charm for my liking, but… it was somewhere that I could call my temporary home. The only thing that I loved about it was that the only source of heat was the fireplace. Too rustic.

But all of Bulgaria wasn't too rustic. There were places that were almost too pretty to be true, in a completely different elegance than Italy or Paris. I could see why Elijah liked it here. I hit up a museum after I got settled on Wednesday, and went back Thursday and Friday.

Saturday afternoon, I flew back home to Nadia and Greg.

I fell into that routine so completely that, suddenly, spring melted into summer.

I dropped my load of wood next to my fireplace and looked around. I didn't actually need the fire. Little flowers weren't peeking out of the snow: tulips were blooming in full force along with other flowers I couldn't name.

Little kids were no longer expected to play indoors and ran through the grass, laughing carefree.

Until they came to my yard.

Here, people treated me differently. Here, they knew I was dangerous. Here, people kept their distance, kept their children from me, livestock from me. Here, people eyed me when I went away for the weekends. Here, people noted when I snuck out and back at odd hours of the night. Here, people notice when I brought in another little fridge.

They weren't bold enough to approach me, or accuse me of anything. They weren't bold enough to hang crucifixes in their windows, bundles of garlic over their doors. They weren't bold enough to call me names, to my face or behind my back, in English or Bulgarian.

It's like they _knew_.

Some part of me truly believed that this once sacred ground, so completely desiccated by Klaus's brass actions, knew that another vampire had set foot on its once-again hallowed ground. Maybe it knew that another doppelganger returned home and feared for its life – _again_. Maybe Klaus's actions had left this place scarred for all eternity, and the people just feared anything out of the norm.

And the scary part was, this place _was _starting to feel like home. Almost like I _belonged_. In a cruel twist of fate (that which was the story of my _life_), I was picking up Bulgarian ten times faster than French or Italian. In the span of February, March, April, and May, I had learned – _absorbed _– nearly ten times as much Bulgarian than Italian.

This really _was _some cruel twist of fate. Karma was getting her vengeance in full – if not on Katherine, then on me.

As a peace offering – as the only _good _thing I was able to do – I kept my feeding well out of town. I never fed from any of my neighbours, even though this little old lady smelled divine. I never brought any of my prey home – I always went to their place or an alley. I got rid of my second fridge, and only ever kept two blood bags at home. Two: I could scarf down two and have the evidence hidden in the time it would have taken a human-me to answer the door.

No matter how many monuments I saw, no matter how many festivities I was present at, no matter how many museums I went to… I was always drawn to the painting Elijah had shown me January seventh.

It's what I currently found myself looking at, only to be distracted by a gruff, old voice.

"I see you here." I'm sure he said more than that, but that's the gist I caught. He started talking, pointing to the different panels of the picture. I knew the words witches and devil, church and sermon, live and die.

"I only know a little Bulgarian," I said.

"I only speak a little English."

Now that we had reached common ground, he told me about it. About how, in the old times, the church dealt with witches and magic, the devil and god. How they preached the word of god into these horrible creatures and, if that still didn't work, in rare cases, they cast them out of town, cast them out of the church; most died.

"You seem… obsessed with them," he said. I had to use my phone to translate that word, but he was right. "I'm concerned for you." From his 'preaching', I took him to be some kind of pastor or father. "I would like you to come to church with me, this weekend."

"I go home – to Italy – every weekend. I go to mass with my friends."

He didn't seem to believe me. "Wednesday, then. We have an evening service on Wednesday evenings."

- x -

"Are you going to go?" I looked at Greg.

Was I going to go?

Somehow, on Sunday night dinner, I had found myself telling Nadia and Greg all about this creepy, gruff old man. Creepy didn't begin to cover it. I got the same vibes from him as I did from rapists and pimps, traitors and killers.

"I don't know." I shrugged. As a creature of the night, he didn't scare me. He wasn't a vampire or a witch; I'd _know_. If he wasn't one of those, I had nothing to fear about this man. _Nothing_. "I kind of feel like I'd be insulting you, if I went." I directed that more at Nadia than Greg.

"If he sounds creepy, you shouldn't go. Trust your gut instinct."

That surprised me. I didn't think Nadia would miss a chance to ask me to go to church – without her or Greg.

I nodded.

- x -

Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday I was back at the museum. I had to try my hardest to remember to act human: move a muscle here, blink my eyes there, shift a little bit, breathe… use the restroom. _Eat_.

Wednesday evening, the creep found me. Or, I let him.

The 'service' or 'mass' or 'whatever' was in Bulgarian.

Unlike the Italian services, it was harsh, guttural, and chilling.

This wasn't a church; it was more like a cult.

He wasn't a pastor; he was more of a demon-caster.

I k_new _he was a creep. He wasn't a just a creep: he was a scam artist, too. When a young girl had been dragged to the alter by her parents, kicking and screaming the whole way, I was confused. There was some manic glint behind his eyes. With one arm, he trapped the struggling girls arms behind her back, pinning them there, and brought his free hand in front of her face, making the 'sign of the cross' or whatever.

He repeated it a few times.

I caught a whiff of something. Maybe it was because I was in one of the front seats, maybe because I was suspicious, I didn't know. There was alcohol on his breath, and not just alcohol. His eyes were clouded and I knew he was on some kind of drug. No, no, _he _wasn't on a drug – there was something on his hand.

That's why suddenly, as if in an 'act of god', the girl stopped fighting, falling limp in his arms. He _drugged _her. Her parents wept – in fucking _joy_. They both emptied their pockets in the offering tray and blabbed, through tears, that they'd only get him more.

I was doing my absolute best to keep my anger in check when he turned his 'be-gone-devil' spiel on me. Unlike everyone else, I didn't flinch. I only got angrier.

I don't know if he was shocked, impressed, or angered that it didn't affect me. Instead of seeming phased, he was _happy_, proclaiming me a _true _believer, and moved on to his next victim.

I became a true creature of the night as people slowly slipped out. I waited – and waited and waited and waited some more. I was a vampire. I had all the time in the _world._ Finally, he made his way down the aisle and sat next to me.

He was talking too quickly in Bulgarian for me to understand him.

I didn't even want to drink his blood – I didn't want his blood to _taint _me.

I let the vampire – I let the _monster _– fully take over. I – it – _we _wanted to cause him as much harm as we could.

- x -

I was almost ready to leave on Saturday when there was a knock on my door.

There had _never _been a knock on my door before.

It was the police.

"I only know a little Bulgarian!" I blurted, finally.

"Khristov is dead," the taller one said. _Who the fuck is Khristov? _I wanted to ask. I could only guess he was the 'pastor'. "Several members of his church-" right guy "-recall seeing you with him after service. He died, or was murdered, sometime between ten pm and two am."

Jesus shit, what was I supposed to say? I'm a vampire? I snapped because he was a sick, twisted man?

"Where were you then, Miss… Gatti?"

A little girl, about four or five years old, tugged on his pants, asking for him to excuse her in Bulgarian.

She was home, she said. I was shocked. Not because I could understand her, but because she said I was home.

"Ana!" her older brother hissed.

Scary lady – not bad – truth. God, I wished I spoke better Bulgarian.

"She's a scary lady." I looked at the fat police officer. He was grinning. "Maybe she's not bad, just scary. We can't lie; we have to tell the truth." He nodded at the kids. Their mom came running up, hiding their heads in her dress.

Bickering went back and forth between all the parties – the police officers, the brother and sister, their mother… a few other kids, and a lot of other adults.

Finally, the fat man started translating again. "General consensus is that you're 'scary'. But they say that they saw you, in your window." He listened. "With a lit candle in the windowsill, curtains tied back. Like Mama did when Papa was off to war." He looked at me, and then back at the kids.

A girl, not much younger than I, stepped forwards. "I saw her, too." She tilted her head, looking at me. "I've never seen you do that, before. But you watched, the whole time, waiting for someone who never came."

The tall police man noticed my bags. "Were you going somewhere?"

"Home."

"Where's home?"

"Italy." I paused. "I go home every Saturday."

"Why?"

"To go to church with my friends."

"Really."

I shrugged and rubbed the back of my neck. "I… really haven't made friends here." Nobody looked at me. "I like to go home… go to church with people I care about."

"You have more than a bag packed for a weekend home."

"I don't… really fit in. Plus." I tried to smile. "It's warm enough to go to the beach, now."

"Please don't leave until we clean this up."

"Do you have… any idea what happened?"

"No." They both looked at me very honestly. "He was harmed beyond belief. You're too little, anyway, to inflict that kind of damage." I have never been prouder of my poker face in my _life_. "But, please. Stay in town a few more days, until we cover all our bases."

I lit a candle that night, too, and lit a fire, even though it was warm enough without one. I curled up on my couch, reading Dracula, when there was another knock on my door.

I couldn't believe my eyes. I should have expected it, really, but I _hadn't_.

"That's why they're scared of me. When I'm not here, _you're _here."

For a long time we stood, staring at each other. Finally, I stepped aside and she came in. I blew out the candle and closed all the curtains before she freely moved about the room.

"This is my _home," _Katherine said. "I killed a vampire stalking me – it turned out she was my _daughter_. You took my boys. Elijah is repulsed by me; Klaus is still after my blood. You can't take my home, too."

We had the longest staring match I'd ever had with _anyone_. It was the longest time we'd been in the same _room _as each other. Being human must have made her _feel _again and now, once again a vampire, she was left feeling just as much as a newborn. In a sick realization, our roles were reversed. I could crush her if I wanted to.

"It's still my museum." I turned to leave. At the door I hovered, stilling her entire body with a glare eight times worse than she'd ever given me. "If you hurt _mine_ – at all – _any _of them, I'll make you _rue _the day you turned. Again."

She smiled. It was a little smile, but an honest-to-God smile. "You have the Petrova fire, after all."

I hesitated, once again. "Did the doppelganger line die with me?"

"I would like to say 'yes'. But my honest guess is 'no'. I'm as new to this as you are."

"The couch isn't comfortable, but it's all I've got."

"You don't think I'll stake you in your sleep?"

"You'd be dead before you even tried." One foot on the stairs and I turned again. "You can have it – have _this_ – once I can leave. Tell them you decided to stay. Compel them. I don't care. But if you ever hurt me again."

- x -

I only had my little carry on with me. I sat on my bench, staring at the painting one last time. I was ready to leave. I needed out. I needed my bed, my kitchen, my little couch and fake fireplace. I needed my shower. I needed… home.

"I don't believe in witches. Or God." A man sat down next to me.

"What _do _you believe in?" You had to believe in something.

"A higher power. Maybe it's witches, maybe it's God. Maybe it's multiple gods and multiple witches or some crazy form of magic. And that… higher power, that… essence, is rumored to be strongest somewhere in England."

"Yeah?" That caught me completely off guard.

"I have family, in Germany. I have a job that takes me all over the world. When I get to come back to Bulgaria, this is my favorite museum to visit. I have seen you here, at this painting, for several days, now. I do not have time to chase down rumored hot spots."

"You've tried," I guessed.

"It is a rumor." Finally, he stopped looking at the picture and turned to face me. "It is a rumor – that only people related to that essence can find it. Maybe… maybe, I have found it, and just don't know it."

"And you're deciding to tell me this, why?"

"You look like you need something to believe in, too."

He walked away, just as quietly.

"Somewhere in England."

* * *

AN: Check out my story called Khristov for a longer scene (more violence), or my "Seven Minutes in Hell" collection of one-shots. SMiH is, technically, set in this AU. And... yes. I am promoting my other stories. Please read and enjoy!

Feel free to point out any spelling/grammar errors, or inconsistent timelines. Any missing scenes you'd like to see/read, mention in a review. If I don't have them written, odds are I will write them. Yes, I have Elena's accident/transition written. No, I will not be posting it. That goes with my own version of TVD that I'm working on putting into chapters. Currently at over 130,000 words, it is proving to be a much more difficult task than anticipated.

Next chapter: baby


	7. Lucy

"What did you _do_!"

I rubbed my eyes, not wanting to be up. It was my first night in my bed, and being up at six in the morning was _not _how I planned to start my day. "Well good morning to you, too, Jer."

"Elena! What did you _do_?"

"Uh?" I looked around and glared at my blinds; why hadn't I closed them last night? "Just waking up. You'll have to clue me in."

"Khristov Crucified?"

"Huh? Khristov… what?"

"We all got this newspaper clipping. It's laminated. Signed, Looks like I'm not the evil doppelgänger after all."

"Ugh. She's a bitch."

"You're not _denying_ this!"

"Jeremy, please." I shoved my face in my pillow, breathing a scent as close to home as I'd get for nineteen years. "I may be a vampire, but I still have a sleepy brain after I wake up. What about Khristov?"

"You _crucified _him?"

"Did _not _crucify the bastard. Bad people deserve to be punished, Jeremy. Surely you know that."

"But-"

"I'm finally in a position to do something with it."

"I think this is going a little _overboard_."

"Is it a newspaper clipping?"

"Well, yeah, but I think she stole the police reports, too, because there's a picture that should _not _be able to be printed."

"He was a sick man, Jeremy. His time was up. I'm just glad I was able to make him hurt as badly as I did."

"This is gross."

"He shoved pokers still red hot from the coals in little babies, Jeremy. He beat an elderly man, drugged a teen, and let two twelve-year-old boys rape her. He was a mad man, Jeremy. I am _honored _that I was his demise. Now he can't hurt anybody else, ever again."

"What if he had a family?"

"Then he was probably hurting them, too. I'm sorry that she sent that to you. It's just."

"This isn't the first time you've done it, is it?"

"I'm still sleepy here, Jer. No, this isn't the first time I've killed someone."

"No. No, I meant. This isn't the first time you've killed someone who deserved it."

"No. I can't… I can't keep referring to it as 'the monster inside me', but there's this _part _of me that _wants _to kill people. And the sick part is that while it's happening, I'm riding this amazing as fuck high that I can't begin to describe, but it's hundreds of times better than that shit Vicki made me do once. And a way for me to ride that high, and do what I'm supposed to do, and not feel guilty about it later, is to hurt people who deserve to be hurt.

"And trust me, Jeremy, I _know _I have no right to determine who that is or isn't. But I couldn't let a sick man keep doing sick and twisted things. It's one sick and twisted person; just one in a bucket of thousands, _hundreds _of thousands. And if it means he doesn't hurt _one _more person, it's worth it. And it'll keep being worth it.

"Back home… back home, it was the sick people that got to walk after the horror they'd done. Maybe they had a good lawyer that got them off, maybe a piece of evidence had to be thrown out, maybe they couldn't prove it. But sometimes you just _knew _they did it. _That's _who I'd hurt. _Who _I hurt. It's not a good feeling, Jeremy, coming down from that high, and realizing, _shit, _I killed someone. But the 'I saved even one person' outweighs it every time."

"You want to kill people?"

" _All _the fucking time. Do you know how hard it is to drink from someone, but _have _to stop? Hard as all getup, trust me. So, yes. Once in a while, I let myself ride that high by killing a serial killer. Or a guy who killed his little girl. Or the average joe around the corner who raped and killed over thirteen girls between the ages of eleven and sixteen. Okay? I can't… I'm happy but not happy and I'm _proud _that I was able to take them off the street, but there's still this old Elena in me that screams and dies a little every time because I _killed _someone. Just – the power. It's overwhelming. It's a high and I can't wait to get my next fix. But only for bad people. It's been a while since I killed an innocent person. Or, you know. Not a child-hurting, elderly-abusing, drugging bastard who lets little boys rape little girls."

"I love you."

I perked up. "Love you, too, Jer."

-x-

"And you're never going to tell us about that church you went to in Bulgaria? Or why you couldn't come home that weekend?"

Instead of having dinner at home, we went to a little restaurant and then around the corner to a bar, sitting on the terrace. Nadia looked like she was ready to burst, and the little heart in her body was starting to put up a fight. Not a bad kind of fight, but soon, she'd have a baby. A baby who would hate to be held by me.

Kids.

Hated.

Vampires.

"No." I probably said that a little too harshly. "Sorry, it's just." I ran my hand through my hair, sighing. After all the violence with Khristov, I hadn't drank my fair share of blood. And that was stupid. I killed a man. No matter how bad he was, he was still a _man_. I tried to make myself think of the people I saved. "It wasn't that… good of an experience." Internally, I snorted. It was a shitty experience, and one I never wanted to repeat."

My foul mood soured the rest of the evening and we all walked home. I settled on my patio, not quite ready to go in, and listened to Nadia and Greg get ready for bed. I tried to space out, and was quite close to it, when the door opened. I met Greg's eye and he quietly closed his door and joined me on my second little patio chair.

"What's up?"

"It wasn't a church," I rushed. "I don't know what it was, but it wasn't a church. There was no religion. And… he was murdered." Air rushed out of him and I dug my fingers into my palms. No, bad idea not to eat. I didn't need to binge, but I needed to _eat_. "Since he was talking to me, so much, you know… they needed to question me. It's just. It was a really bad experience, at that 'church', and then people, in some foreign country, needing to question me? I'm just pretty shaky."

"But you're okay." I don't know if he said it, or asked it.

"I'm not okay, but I'm not not-okay, either." He squeezed my hand and got up. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?" he asked.

"Pretend. How do you pretend to like it? Go to church? Believe? I see it. You don't believe it any more than I do."

"I love Nadia," he said, like that was it.

Maybe it was.

Instead of doing the smart thing, like going in and retiring for the evening, drinking a bag of blood and nice glass of wine, I went out. And not to hunt, out.

"Hey." Finally at my destination, I took my hands out of my pockets and looked up at the voice. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"I've been around," I said.

Sam smiled. "Out, where?"

"Bulgaria." His eyes widened, but at least he smiled. "Looked a bit into my mother's side of the family." Damn it. Here I was, _still _thinking of Katherine and 'my mother's side of the family'.

"I _thought _you didn't look American."

"Oh, jeez, _thanks_."

"No, it's just-"

"I know. I get that all the time."

"What's got you in a foul mood?"

"I'm hungry," I whined. I watched the compulsion dance on his face. He wanted – he honestly _wanted _– to offer himself, but I hadn't allowed it. Instead, he held up a bottle.

"Shot?"

"I'll take the whole damn thing," I grumbled. I downed the shot of tequila. "Not my drink of choice."

"What is?"

Bourbon. "A positive."

He rolled his eyes. "You can do shots of blood?"

"Never done it before. But, now that you mention it… And no."

"Then why are you here?"

"Stalling."

"And… why are you stalling?"

"I need to go to England. That's the next place I need to nose around in. But I _just _got back, after a _horrible _ordeal in Bulgaria-"

"Bulgaria?"

I waved it off. "Don't ask. But, now my next lead is England."

"Lead?"

"Maybe you could bring it up to your witchy relations. See if they know any hotspots in England."

"I thought I wasn't supposed to tell anybody."

"You're not," I said, smiling, "you're asking for your friend."

"I'm your friend?"

"Greg." We had dinner at the place across the street, and everybody knew Greg as 'that guy'. Here, it wasn't all that bad.

"And, _you_, need a vacation. Something better than Bulgaria."

"And blood."

"And blood. And another shot." I downed it. "While I'm _trying _to get information from them, where are you going to visit?"

"The second-best-place to home."

-x-

I was about to step foot onto the train when I remembered my promise to Nadia and Greg.

Shit.

Baby.

Instead of visiting Nino, I fed.

Nadia's due date approached slowly.

Four days before she was due, 'baby' was ready, in position or whatever the heck that meant.

"I have a… question."

"Yeah?" Nadia was drinking iced tea on my patio and I was drinking hot tea.

"You know. It's none of my business, but… why is it 'baby'? You… don't want to know what it is?"

"Oh. Well. Yes and no." She put a hand on her stomach, and smiled at it. I swallowed a burning surge of jealousy. Here she was, sitting, with one thing I wanted more than anything, but despised at the same time – a baby meant another doppelgänger. "At first, baby just wouldn't face the right way. It became a joke. Everyone is arguing for a boy or a girl, so this is easy, then. No one knows. We'll all be surprised."

"Is that what you want?" I asked. "A surprise?"

"It's silly," she said, and baby's heartbeat wanted to be _outside_, with Mama. "But as long as he or she is healthy, I don't really care. It's _mine_. Greg wants a boy. Obviously. But he's also admitted that he's just scared if it's a girl – she'll need protection from all those boys out there."

"You want a boy?"

"I want a baby!" She laughed, and then sobered up. "Are you sure I can't convince you to be there?"

I turned away, fangs burning my gums as they grew, holding back my hiss as well as I could. _Blood_. I can't eat your baby, I wanted to say. I drew on all my will power and made my teeth go away. "Blood makes me squeamish, but I _promise_. I'll be there as soon as I hear word." I laughed. "Or a few hours after I see you leave."

-x-

I brought my patio umbrella and chairs in for the pending storm when I smelled it – a huge wave of blood hit me and I fell to my knees, panting, teeth growing, and this gnawing hunger pawing at my stomach, even though I had just had a blood bag a few hours earlier.

I clenched my fists and _shit_, I'd need to buy new floors, but I would _not _–

I was at my door, hovering, holding on to whatever humanity I had left.

It was a losing battle. (So hungry) My teeth had never hurt this badly before. (Owwa) Even the air hurt, just hovering around my mouth. (So glad I don't _have _to breathe) I was hungry like never before. (Hollow)

My hunger – my thirst – made everything stand out more, too. A little whimper.

Oh, God. Nadia. Baby. Shit.

I knocked on her door before I could stop myself, eyes red, fangs still out, frantic. "Nadia?"

"Elena!"

Greg's car wasn't in front. Shit. "Nadia. Nadia, where is Greg?"

"He left. He had to go to work for a minute. Elena."

"Okay." I took a deep breath. Shit, I couldn't do this. Breathing was a bad idea, flooding blood through my nose, not making the teeth and eye thing any easier. I fell to my knees, nails breaking off when I dug into the cement. The pain didn't help to center me. Think, think, think. Think past this cloud of blood. You've done it before…

Crap, how did babies work? Wasn't the water supposed to break, not blood right away? Not unless the baby was already here, already coming.

Shit, shit, shit. I ran into my place, up my stairs, to my safe little room, and grabbed a baggie of something I hoped I'd never have to use. I also took my phone.

GET YOUR ASS BACK HOME, I texted Greg, and then dialed the emergency number, not pressing the call button.

"Nadia," I said, hovering at her door again. "Nadia, you have to keep your eyes closed, please." Please.

"Elena."

"I can't help you if you look at me, please, Nadia. Just – please."

"It hurts."

"I know, sweetie," I said, and carefully opened the bag, grabbing a green stem – even that burned. "Promise."

Once upon a time, when Damon was being an ass, but I needed his blood, I contemplated chewing on vervain before I fed to punish him. Now I would be punishing myself.

"I promise."

I had drunk vervain water before – it was horrid.

This _burned – _it was pure fire in my mouth. It would be less painful to walk across burning coals, to stake myself, to sacrifice myself to the early morning sun. My gums sizzled, bleeding and I sobbed.

I pressed the call button – the pain and whimpering in my voice could be related to me freaking out over Nadia.

"I don't speak Italian," I blabbed, opening her door, overwhelmed by the blood, by Nadia huddled on the floor, grasping her stomach, crying. "But my friend is having her baby. Help me."

I gave our address.

I breathed as little as I could, and didn't swallow, didn't try to wash the pain away. I let the vervain _burn_, let the saliva _burn_, let it help me focus on the pain, not the blood.

Nadia cried, I cried – but she kept her word and didn't open her eyes. I was two seconds away from delivery the baby when Greg rushed in. I was glad he was here to see it and then I was holding a new and squirming and _warm _and breathing little baby, and it was _screaming_.

The paramedics got there the same second, and I handed off the baby and ran away before anyone could question me.

I threw up in my bathroom, over and over again, sobbing, trying to claw my eyes out before throwing up again. It was pure torture – the blood and the vervain in equal parts. Water didn't help, brushing my teeth didn't help.

I turned the shower on full blast, all hot, no cold, and got in fully clothed, trying to wash the blood off my hands. I was still dry heaving, nothing left in my stomach, vervain still in the nooks and crannies of my mouth, hot water burning my skin, and I screamed, not even trying to keep it in, when, all of a sudden, a heartbeat I didn't know was on the outside of my bathroom door.

Knock. "Miss?"

I was at the door a second later, open, compelling him. "Don't. Say. Anything." He nodded, and I ran back to my shower. Screw it. "Do you have any blood in your ambulance?" He shook his head no. "Then you will have to do."

Before I could drain him, a voice was hollering, "Luca?" I cut my teeth and lapped at his neck.

"Go down and ask him if he can help me, too. Wait twenty seconds and then call us again. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

Both paramedics left in one piece, albeit missing a lot of their blood, and my little refrigerator was missing all its blood bags.

I was still a wreck so I went hunting. Somehow, I managed not to kill my victims.

Around dinner time, I got a summon from Greg. The last thing I needed now was a hospital. A hospital and blood. But we were _friends_.

I took some vervain and shoved it in a water bottle before chugging some, bursting into a fresh bout of tears before rushing to the hospital.

Barely a foot into the door and Greg was throwing himself at me. Had I been human, I would have been hurt. Instead, I kept us upright.

"It's a girl," he said, pulling me back and kissing me twice on each cheek. "It's a beautiful baby girl." He rested his forehead against mine and gave me the biggest and best smile he could. Get away from me, I wanted to holler. Hugging me and keeping your neck less than a foot from me is the stupidest thing you've ever done in your life. "Come meet my Baby Lucy."

Even though I was a vampire, I found him pushing me into a seat and placing a little, sleeping, but _clean _baby into my arms.

Please don't cry and ruin this.

She opened her little blue eyes and opened her mouth and I cringed.

I was so surprised when she yawned and closed her eyes, snuggling back into me.

"God, she's _beautiful_."

I carefully brought my finger to her nose and touched it like she was china. She was. I brushed her brown hair across her forehead. She was so soft. I offered her my finger to hold, trying my luck, and my heart melted. She took it and squeezed it so hard I could feel the blood rushing through her little finger. At the same time she knew to fear me, instinctually, she knew to trust me, too, and all the bloodlust and hunger melted away.

"Baby Lucy," I whispered.

"Thank you so much," he said, collapsing onto the floor next to me, leaning against the armrest, just staring at his baby. "We know you don't like blood, and, Jesus, we could _hear _the anguish in your voice and you being sick, but, Elena-"

"I know. Baby."

"Baby."

-x-

I had a million things to do but two little things held me back from everything.

Lucy. The only thing holding me back from Lucy was my feeding. Jesus, that little baby had me wrapped around her little, cute, _precious_ pink finger, and she was only a day old. I changed dirty diapers, let Mamma and Daddy get some sleep, fended off offending visitors, and weeded out disgusting meals random people brought over.

Ten days passed that way before Greg hugged me and pulled me to the side.

"Don't get offended, but you need a life." I smiled, hugging him back, and looked at Nadia, cradling a sleeping Lucy, smiling at her, then us. My face must have said it all. "God, I know. But we've got a rhythm, now. And you're only across the sidewalk."

"You're not kicking me out!"

"Never," Nadia swore. "It's like you know the second we need you."

_'Greg, I think that was the last diaper!'_

_Nadia, Nadia, don't hold her, you need sleep._' 'So do you, Greg.'

_'How do I have no clean clothes?'_

_'She was sick again? Where are all her bibs?'_

_'Where did you put her blankie?'_

"What can I say?" I smirked. "I'm just good like that."

"You are," Greg agreed, no argument. "Which is why we need you well and rested for when I screw this up."

"We," Nadia said. "When _we _screw this up."

"I'm gonna screw up, too," I said, feeling left out, and then regretted it. "Wait. No. I'll just be here to clean up your messes."

Nadia laughed. "Thank you so much, Elena. You have no idea."

But I did. That little baby in her arms would always have a special place in my heart.

* * *

AN: Feel free to point out any spelling/grammatical errors, or inconsistent timelines. Any missing scenes you'd like to see/read, mention in a review. If I don't have them written, odds are I will write them.

I know nothing about birthing a baby, so that may not happen. In that case, something went wrong with Nadia's pregnancy.

Next Chapter: another visit with Sam, some (blood) feeding, and a trip to England.


	8. Not an Abomination

"It's amazing what two weeks and a vacation will do for you."

I couldn't even wipe the smile off my face if you paid me. "No vacation," I said, and pulled my phone out instead. "This is eight hundred times better than a vacation."

"What could possibly be better than a vacation?" I showed him the picture of a little pink blanket. Wrapped around a precious, beautiful, sleeping Lucy. "I agree. Better than any vacation. Is that Greg and Nadia's little baby?"

"Lucy."

"She's adorable."

"I know."

"You want the good news or the good news?"

I sighed. "There is no better news."

"Well then, I won't tell you what my witches found out." I was in front of him the next second. "Damn, I forgot you could do that," he said, laughing nervously.

"_What_, pray tell, kind of information do your witches have for me?"

He pulled out a little notebook and I snickered. "There are more than four elements, sure, but their main ones are earth, air, fire, and wind. So you're looking for something like that."

"Jeez, _thanks_, that narrows it down."

"Hey." He held his hands, and the little book up. "I got this from my drunk nonna before my auntie interrupted. Take it however you want to. I thought I'd share."

"Like water would narrow it."

"Well, water wouldn't include the Panama Canal."

"Excuse me?" I shook my head, sitting on my side of the bar, and pointed to the empty space in front of me. He surprised me further by putting two shot glasses on the counter and an entire bottle of bourbon. I raised an eyebrow.

"I'm a bartender. I know your drink of choice."

"Then why ply me with tequila?"

"Because I can't stand bourbon." I rolled my eyes and poured us a shot, downed both of them, filled mine up again, and snatched a bottle of tequila before he could do anything. "Hey!"

"Shut it." I poured his shot, put the bottle down, and then took a huge drag of bourbon before ushering at his little book. "Panama Canal?"

"Well that's not natural."

"Come again? I'm not even _drunk _and I don't follow."

"It's man-made."

"Huh." I ignored the shot glass and drank from the bottle again. Then I shook my head. "That has to be one hundred percent false."

"What? Why!"

"A, it's still water, and b, isn't fire sort of man-made?"

"Not all the time. Seriously, not most of the time."

"Okay, but that totally leaves fire and air out of the picture, anyway."

"Why?"

"Well there's no giant burning fireball just hanging around, is there? And if it were air, it'd be _everywhere_."

"Point."

"So water or earth. Jesus. _We _could be considered earth." He raised an eyebrow, giving me a very clear shot of his blue eyes. "You know." I shrugged, feeling like I knew those eyes. "In the biblical sense." He rolled his eyes. "And if your nonna – grandma?"

"Yeah." He perked up. "Do you want to work on your Italian?"

"Yes!" But no, not right now. "And if your nonna said manmade shit doesn't count, well, what exactly does that leave for earth? Would a stone house count? Yes, because it's stone and mortar, or no, because man made it?"

"Don't know."

"Is there any way you can get your nonna alone for a longer period of time?"

"No. No, not really. My auntie… my zia takes care of her. You could try."

If she was a _real _witch… no… no, she'd know me the second I stepped foot in her house. "Not a good idea." He opened his mouth. "Trust me. Witches keep the balance. I'm an abomination. I'm not supposed to exist. If she knew this was for a vampire, she'd stop helping. I promise."

"You're not an abomination."

"Sometimes it feels like I am."

"Elena." He put his notebook down and held my face in his hands, like I was made out of glass. "You are not an abomination. You are a flame of light in an otherwise black world, you are a flicker of hope in an otherwise doomed nation. You crave blood and yet you don't cave, even though I know the battle you go through every time you breathe. That, Elena… _that_, is not an abomination."

I…

I took my face out of his hands. "So let's forget the manmade part, right now." He opened his mouth to object but I pressed on. "And ha! That can't be right, either. Manmade my ass. My friend used bottled water. It may not be manmade, but it's processed by man."

"Okay…"

"So. Is there anything special about the Atlantic Ocean? Pacific?"

"Before we go on, what _exactly _are you looking for? All you said was hotspot."

"And that's all I know. That's all this guy hinted at. For all I know, it was complete BS."

"Fair…"

"But." I hesitated. "Witches were persecuted in my hometown. They burned _hundreds _of them in the same place. It made… sort of a hotspot. We may not be looking for a place a hundred witches were burned alive, but… I don't know. A place where… they congregated. Where they felt more powerful. Where they thrived. Where they made a coven."

"I know no history of England."

"Me, either."

"Could you just walk around? If it's a hotspot, won't you know it?"

"It's a hot spot for witches."

He shrugged. "Maybe it's a hotspot for… supernatural beings." I hesitated. "You just said, if my nonna met you, she'd know you were a vampire. Could you tell that she was a witch?"

"I… have no idea." I tried to remember back to Bonnie. Bonnie didn't seem too different from Caroline. But, then again, they were both supernatural. "I don't think so. It's sort of a witch thing."

"Okay." He looked down at his notebook and I was surprised.

"Are you taking notes?"

He ignored my comment. "Your hotspot, at home. Can you tell a difference?" I shivered. "I'll take that as a yes."

"It felt… wrong." I had to think more, pulling up on memories long ago suppressed. "Not wrong, but not right. Different. Powerful. Overwhelming."

"Would you be able to feel it again? Tell it apart?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation at all. "Yes."

"Then I suggest hitting all the typical 'hotspots' of England. You know. Seriously. All the tourist spots. Get the obvious things out of the way."

"Yeah, but isn't that… too obvious?"

"You blend in just fine," he said. "Witches do, too. Why should their 'hotspots' be any different?"

"I hate when you make sense."

He laughed and kept writing in his notebook. "Okay. Churches and castles."

"I think those can automatically be crossed off."

"Why?"

"Well, at least churches. Churches castigate witches. You know, kind of turns them off."

"Okay. For now, we can leave those off. You know what? Screw this." I was shocked at his outburst but all he did was pull out his phone. "Here. 'Twenty five things that you must do if you ever visit the UK'."

I laughed. "What's first?"

"Technically, twenty-fifth. Roman Baths."

"I think witchcraft goes back farther than Roman Baths."

"Well. What if they built the baths over such a powerful site?" I rolled my eyes. "So? Sightsee. Enjoy your time overseas."

"Do you own this place?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you own this place?" What about that didn't he understand. "What if you wanted to up and leave for a vacation? Would you have to close this place down?"

"Elena…"

"You just said you know no history of England. So. Come with me. Learn, enjoy. _Grow up_. Thrive." His look said it all. "One week. We can hit the first couple on the list."

"Elena…"

"Please."

-x-

"I cannot believe you talked me into this." I finished shoving a few things in my bag while cradling Lucy. "Shouldn't you be treating her like glass?"

Nadia and Greg were supposed to be back ten minutes ago. Sure, Sam and I didn't have to leave _now_, but we needed to make it to the airport on time. I didn't like being late. "There is seriously no one safer for her to be around. Say, for some odd reason, I _did _drop her, I could catch her before anybody knew something was wrong."

"Still."

I came over to him and touched his cheek, with a normal amount of human pressure. "I treat everything like glass. I have to. I could crush you."

"Will you show me?"

I laughed. "That I can crush you?"

"Yes. Well, _no_, not _me_. But. You know. The 'perks' to being a vampire."

"What makes you think there are perks?"

"Well, if you could crush me, that means you're really strong. And if you could catch her before she falls, you're really fast. Those are two perks. So there must be more, right?"

I dropped my hand from his face, but before he could do anything more than look hurt, Nadia had flung the door open.

"I am so sorry we're late."

"It's okay."

She looked between Sam and I for a few seconds before looking down. "How do you always manage to get her to sleep?"

She should hate me. She should be _terrified _of me, but not one single part of me was a normal vampire. She _knew _she could trust me. Some instinctual little part of her mind knew that no harm would come to her when I was around. As long as she was fed and had a clean diaper, there was nothing else she needed because she felt _safe_.

"Oh, we played for a _long_ while," I said.

"How do you play with a baby?" Greg asked, amused, leaning against the door frame.

"Well." I smirked. "I'd show you, but she's asleep." He rolled his eyes. "I don't know. I'm good with kids, I guess."

"Well." Nadia carefully took Lucy back into her arms. "Thanks again."

"I'm only a phone call away," I reminded them. "I'll drop anything for you guys."

They had no words for that and just left.

"Do they know?" Sam asked quietly.

"No."

"Andiamo." He nodded and picked up his suitcase. "Let's go."

"Andiamo," I repeated.

-x-

We arrived all cranky and shit. Well, I did.

"What's your problem?" he said, dropping his suitcase on his bed. I hadn't let him pay his part, so he insisted on sharing a room. It was turning out to be a very, _very _stupid idea.

I ran over to him, squeezing his shoulders with still-human strength.

"There are reasons I don't fly," I hissed, showing him my teeth. "That was pure torture. Imagine being locked in a small room with your favorite food and not being able to indulge." I dropped to my knees and buried my face in my hands. Flying from Bulgaria to Italy was different. It was only a few short hours. Rome to Bath was longer.

"Elena?"

"I need to _eat_."

"Uhm. Right here?"

"Bad idea!" I said, but didn't move. I couldn't. One move and I would cave.

"Why? I'm offering, aren't I?"

"Because I like you!" I stood up and held his shoulders again, pressing harder than I should have been able to and he cringed. "I don't want to hurt you!"

"You wouldn't."

"I'm not a saint! You're not _mine_! There is no 'I can't hurt you' because it's what I _do_!"

"What if I trust you?"

"Then you are a very, _very_ stupid human."

"Maybe I am…"

"You have no idea how personal this is…"

"I have an idea…"

He was taller than me. He was taller than me, and I was no longer staring at his face in anger, but at his neck with desire. "God. Fuck."

"You know you want to."

"Want and should are two very different things."

"They don't have to be."

"Later."

"I-"

"Later," I hissed. "Or I will drain you."

Instead, he walked forward and held my face again. "You are not an abomination, Elena."

How did he know what I was thinking? "Please."

"Shh."

"I need more than you can give."

"Then take what you need so you don't fly off the handle."

I pushed him back onto the cushy chair, and must have startled him, but he didn't object to kissing. I took control but he was soon testing my limits and I let him.

He carried me over to the bed, our mouths never releasing. He only paused to push my shirt up, over my head. "God." Then we were back to kissing, all hot mouths and tongues, and he crawled on top of me.

"Fuck."

"Shh."

Instead, I flipped us over, hair hanging in a dark curtain around my face, blocking him from view. "How do you want to do this?"

Carefully, he raised a steady hand and pushed my hair away from my face. There was no more kissing because I couldn't keep my fangs in. "You're not an abomination, Elena. You're beautiful." He cupped my cheek and ran his thumb under my eyes, over the veins, and I panted. "So beautiful."

God, that was Damon's line, but he wasn't here. "He doesn't love me."

He shook his head. "I don't believe anyone couldn't love you." He kissed my forehead and I let him. "Beautiful."

"Hungry. Sex later."

I settled him back into the chair and cuddled up on his lap, wrapping one arm tightly around my waist and brought his other hand to my mouth. "Why not my neck?"

"Because I can drag this out longer, this way. Which is better, for me." I licked his wrist. "And you."

He laughed. "And me?"

I hummed, pressing kisses to his pulse. "It's not as scary." I stared at his wrist. For a long time, now, I'd been causing as much pain and misery whilst biting as humanly – vampire-ly? – possible that I was struggling to remember how to be gentle.

"Is my wrist not meeting your expectations?"

"It's a very pretty wrist," I purred.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

"I'm reminding myself that you're a human that I like." Neutral bite, neutral bite, don't make it hurt but don't make it –

He groaned. I squeezed my legs together.

Don't make it hurt but don't make it feel _good_. Fuck. He pushed down on my waist as his hips shoved up.

Focus.

I picked the wrist because I'd have to struggle to get blood; it wouldn't flood my mouth as easily as the neck and I could enjoy it longer. I helped drive him along, rocking my hips against his. I kept drinking until he froze, and pulled back, grinning at him, bloody teeth and all.

"What was that?" he panted.

I smiled and wiped the blood off my lips. "That's why I don't mix food and pleasure."

"Fuck. I _came_. In my _pants_."

I hummed, licking up his wrist, getting every last drop I could from the still sluggishly bleeding wound. "I'm surprised you made it as long as you did."

He laughed, petting my head. "Was I good?"

"Mhm-hmm," I agreed. "Amazing. Haven't had anyone that good in a _long _time."

"Thanks."

"Thank _you_." I finally pulled back and the red in my eyes slowly faded out. He wiggled his fingers and it brought my gaze back to his wrist.

"What do we do about this? You didn't happen to bring any bandaids, did you?"

"Who needs bandaids?"

I tried to pop out my teeth only but failed. Still, I pricked my tongue on my teeth and licked his wrist. "Watch."

He did, transfixed, as it slowly healed itself. "Wow."

"Vampire perk."

"I'd say. What else?"

"I'm strong. Fast. I can hear and see better than you can."

"Really?"

I closed my eyes and focused. "The clock in the hall ticks. The left elevator is louder than the right. The person at the end of the hall just closed their door. Someone's phone is ringing. A little girl tripped and fell on the sidewalk, and her momma's trying to shush her." He smiled. "Your heart is _still _going crazy."

"Yeah, well, I came, like, two minutes ago."

"Mhm." I snuggled under his chin and he held me.

"Tell me about him."

"Who?"

"Him. Yours." I didn't say anything. "You love him. I know that. I'm second best."

"You're not second best."

"You're not an abomination." I snapped my mouth shut. "You don't have to love me. That was _amazing_. I'm for that _any _time. And sex. You go to him, at the end of the night."

"And you?"

He shrugged. "I'll find my 'mine' one day. Just like you'll get yours back."

"Why do you have to be so awesome?"

"Because you're not an abomination."

"How many times are you going to say that?"

"Until you believe it, too." He kissed the top of my head. "You are not an abominio, Elena."

"Abominio," I repeated. "Nonna. Zia."

"Andiamo."

"Let's go."

"Andiamo alle terme romane."

"Let's go to the… roman?" I perked up. "Let's go to the roman baths?"

"Terme romane is roman bath, yes. Terme alone is spa."

"Andiamo alle terme romane!"

He laughed. I got up, pulling him with me and hesitated. I owed him the truth. "I love him. That's what this is about. Sometimes… making a vampire can create a… bond. That… _bond_, can influence feelings. _Can_. Doesn't always. Not when it's there before you transition. Or, become a vampire. But no one believes me, not even him. I loved him, before I turned. I love him now. Everyone thinks it's because of this bond. I have to prove them wrong. That I love him because I love him, not because this bond makes me _think _I love him."

"And seeing these baths is going to help?"

I couldn't help my smile. "No. If it exists, finding this hotspot might help. Basically, I think I'm looking for a powerful witch who won't kill me. Your nonna sounds too old and your zia sounds like she doesn't believe."

-x-

"It's beautiful," I gushed.

Sam just laughed at me. "I would love to see the world through your eyes. How is _this _beautiful?" He ushered to the destroyed roman baths. I pulled out my phone and we walked around, looking at the ruins and comparing them to 'restored' photographs.

"Can you see the beauty, now?"

"Beautiful." His eyes bore into mine. "What's his name?"

I sighed and grabbed his hand, pulling him along. "Damon."

"Okay." He could sense that I didn't want to talk about it. Yet. "You want me to keep coming on these little adventures with you, right?" I nodded. "And you went to Bulgaria-"

"You want to go to Bulgaria with me?"

"No! I said, you went to Bulgaria to look into your mother's history, right?"

"Kind-of-sort-of."

He rolled his eyes. "Are you good at that? Genealogy?"

"Nope. But I'm really good with getting my nose where it doesn't belong."

"How about I keep coming on these adventures with you if you help me dig into _my _family history." Hmn. "A few generations ago, one of my grandpa's and one of his brothers made some huge scandal by marrying French women, not Italian women."

"Marrying a French woman was a _scandal_?"

He laughed, swinging our hands. "At the time, it seems so. Do you feel anything here?"

"What?"

"Different. Like at home."

"Oh." I closed my eyes and pretended to take a deep breath; there were too many people around to actually do that. "No. Normal."

"So they married French sisters."

"Are you hoping to find you're royalty?"

"No. Maybe who their parents, were."

"I'll see what my nose can dig up." Bad choice of words. "Damn it."

"Hungry?"

"I'm always hungry," I whined, sounding like a little kid.

"Uh. Seconds?"

"God." I hid my face in my hands, teeth aching, eyes itching.

"Hey. You're-"

"Abomination blah-blah-blah."

"You have a lisp." I dug my sunglasses out of my purse, even though it was too dark for them.

"Never." I shoved my sunglasses on, and poked him in the chest, _hard_. "Never point out a vampire's lisp." I could play my teeth off as fake, but my eyes, no. "It's impolite. And I do not have a lisp. I have… I have yet to learn how to talk properly with these teeth, is all."

He laughed. "You have a lisp." I growled. "You hissed! You actually hissed! It's-"

"If you say cute, so help me God…" Wisely, he shut up. Dead puppies, dead puppies, dead puppies – whup. "Thank you," I said, after my teeth retracted. I pulled my glasses off, too. I had yet to master talking with fangs – I had yet to master teeth with no eyes. I whispered harshly in his ear, "I have been referred to, on several occasions, as an _alluring _vampire, but I am still a vampire, nonetheless. Don't forget it."

I pulled back, crossing my arms, and glared. "I hiss and growl when I'm angry. It's a warning. Choking it up to some joke is a _horrible _mistake. The vampire in me can snap at any time. _All _my sense are heightened when I'm 'vamped' out. Don't add injury to insult unless you're willing to accept the consequences – which, to a pissed vampire, could mean _death_."

"Are you trying to scare me?"

I swallowed and turned away. "This isn't some joke, Sam. Immortality comes with repercussions. If you feel threatened, you defend yourself. But, now, if I feel threatened, or harmed, or offended, or _anything_, there's just more than _me _defending myself – me and the _vampire _will defend ourselves in any and every possible way." I finally turned around and tried to relax my face. "Even over something as trivial as pointing out a lisp. Understand?"

He nodded, shaky. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

"So am I." I still wasn't used to these mood swings. Pissed to accusatory to guilt. "It's just. _Everything _is heightened. Everything. So egging someone on when they're already pissed isn't a good idea."

"I'm sorry." He cradled my face again and gently kissed my forehead. "You are not an abomination."

"An abomination-"

"You-" kiss "-are not-" kiss "-an abomination." His eyes drifted down to my mouth. "Does it hurt?"

"My teeth?"

"When they grow? Because they're normal teeth, now."

"It hurts," I undermined. "And then they're left with a hollow ache that's only satiated with feeding."

"And your eyes?"

"Itch." I pulled out of his hands and scratched them so hard they started to bleed.

"Don't-" He watched, transfixed, as my face healed right before his eyes. "Wow."

"I can feel that, too. It's like my sink is stretching – stretching and breaking – over and over again and, when it finally heals-"

"It itches."

I rubbed my cheeks with the backs of my hands. "So itchy."

"Stop it."

"I hate itchy."

"Shh."

He tried to pull me into a hug, but I restrained. "No. You smell too good."

"Thanks."

"You're not welcome. It's not a compliment. I need to eat."

"What do you normally do?"

"Rob a blood bank. Or hunt down bad people."

"Bad people?"

"Mhm. My favorite food, lately, is rapist." I looked over at him, conflicted myself. "Sometimes I can justify my actions if I prey on bad people."

"Can't you just get willing donors or something like that?"

"_You _could go a few days without food. I can, too. But, it's _really _wise to ear regularly. Ideally, I'd get, like, five or six cups throughout the day. Do you know how many willing donors that would take?"

"To… survive, you know. Normally. Typically. In a… human manor, how much would you need?"

"I eat until my teeth don't hurt. It's… not something I can explain. I just. Drink the hurt away – drink the burn away."

.

_"When you're feeding and you no longer ache, you've had enough."_

_"That burn?"_

_"Drink the burn away," he urged. "And a mouthful or two extra."_

_"What's the rest?"_

_"The human part of your stomach telling you it's empty."_

.

"You still with me?" I hummed.

_'If you ever have to stop and consider your hunger, wait a bit before you feed.'_

"I'm hungry."

* * *

AN: I do not speak Italian. Do you know how hard it was to figure out how to say 'roman bath'? And then not even know if it's _still_ correct, since I don't even speak Italian? And "let's go" translated to "andiamo" in Italian, but then "andiamo" translated back to "we go" and, yeah. I just hope that I didn't screw it up too badly. Again, if you want to provide a better translation, please, please, _please_!

Feel free to point out any spelling/grammatical errors, or inconsistent timelines. Any missing scenes you'd like to see/read, mention in a review. If I don't have them written, odds are I will write them.

Next chapter: York Minster, Jeremy, a confrontation with Ric, and a physical appearance from Damon.


	9. York Minster

AN: Paige is an OC: Logan's cousin.

* * *

"Seven Sister Country Park was a bust. It was beautiful and pretty and, sure… but there was nothing special about it."

"Where else did you go?" Greg asked.

"A part of Hadrian's Wall. Again. It was cool to see it but… nothing special."

"I wish I had the money to blow to go sightsee in England. But with a baby…"

"I'm going to Durham Castle next. Offer still stands to take you and Nadia. And Lucy, of course."

-x-

"How was Durham Castle?" Nadia asked the next week.

"Pretty." But nothing special. "Don't make plans between Christmas and New Years. I made us plans."

"Elena…"

"Nadia…" I smiled. Finally, she did, too.

"I can't believe you've been here over a year!"

"Me, either!" I laughed. "It's flown by." In some ways it had, in some ways it hadn't.

-x-

"How was Lake District Nation Park?" Greg asked.

"Beautiful." But nothing special. "Probably would be even prettier in summer."

"What are we doing winter break?" Nadia asked. I just smiled.

-x-

"How was The Malvern Hill and Commons?"

"I think I need to put off sightseeing until better weather. Especially in England."

"Elena." Nadia held my face carefully in her hands and my gums ached with hunger. Everything was such a bust. I was moody and grumpy and getting sick of finding nothing. I wasn't eating well, either, and that _needed _to change, especially if my gums tingled when Nadia simply held my face. "Where are we going?"

"Huh?"

"For the holiday?"

"Oh." I wiggled my face from her hands and opened my mailbox and flipped through my mail. "A letter from Jeremy."

"Who's Jeremy again?"

"Brother."

"Elena?"

"Huh?" I asked, slitting the envelope open.

"Where are we going after Christmas?"

"York Minster."

"Really, Elena, we-"

"Shut up."

"Elena-"

"No, really." I looked up from my letter, trying to control my vampire features. "Shut up." Eyes back on the letter, I read quicker than humanly possible and then slower, making sure I was reading everything correctly.

"What's wrong?"

My eyes skimmed over the main parts.

Caroline – Tyler – love bite – Klaus – no big deal. _What's up with that, anyway_? I could imagine Jeremy saying that and, suddenly, I wanted him. Damon – nothing; Stefan – college _again_. Ric – Paige – seeing – ring.

"Elena?"

I sat down. "When my parents died, my aunt took guardianship over me and my brother. She later got engaged – and married to – my biological mother's ex-husband. So he's sort of my step-dad."

"Is he alright?"

"I think Ric should tell you, but he won't call you, and I can't make him. At the end of May, Logan's cousin, Paige, graduated law school and came back home. I mean, we all knew he needed to move on from Jenna and we were so glad – _are _– but. I don't know. Last night, I found him sitting on his bed – _their bed _– holding her wedding ring." Nope. Reading it out loud hurt just as badly and made the words seem more final.

I continued silently.

'It's been two years, Elena. Since… Everything. I still can't even say it. Two years since I almost died, since Matt almost died. Since I almost lost you. Since _we _lost _Jenna_. I'm _glad _that he can be happy again, I really am, but, Elena… I still miss Jenna. I know he does, too. I know you do. We _all _do. And Paige is great. She's nice and friendly and she genuinely seems to like Ric and knows he has an obligation to me – and you – because of Jenna.

'And, God, call me a sap, but that makes me miss Mom and Dad, too. I don't know why, but this Christmas is sucking more than last year.

'Will you hold your promise of letting me visit? I graduated last year and I'm in community college because I didn't make as good of grades as you did. But I _really _miss you, Elena.'

I took a deep, pained breath.

"We are going to York Minster. And you are meeting my brother."

-x-

"I can't be_lieve _we're here."

I looked over at Nadia and Greg. They were cute, standing together, holding their hands, looking up in awe at the big building. It was gorgeous, though. All stone and big windows and pointy tops. My little vocabulary pointed out how hungry I was. 'Eat better, Elena.'

I snuggled little baby Lucy further into my side. It probably wasn't the best idea to let a vampire, a cold-blooded (no-blooded?) creature carry a delicate little thing that depended on heat. Even after six months, Lucy was still extremely attached to me. This silly little human baby made me feel as proud and as important as could be. There was only one time that compared to how proud I was: when I made my first successful feed. Actually, this had to beat it. If I couldn't have a kid, Lucy would more than suffice.

"This beats all," I said. They didn't have to know I was talking about my humanity and not York Minster.

I had been focusing on 'natural' places, figuring empty fields had to call to witches more than old castles and churches. When I found out that York Minster was on the list of places you 'had to visit', I knew that I had to take Nadia and Greg with.

Truth be told, I normally compelled my way into the airport, past security, and to a departure gate that flew to somewhere in England. After a plane boarded, I'd compel the flight attendant to see if there was an open seat. Plane tickets were kind of expensive and I was flying so often… And, plus. What did it matter if the seat was empty and unpaid for and they still flew, or if I took it? I always bought a drink or two and left a nice tip.

I did feel bad for my seat partner, though. Being caged in a place for a few hours was horrid. Once or twice, a passenger 'offered' me their wrist, not that it helped much. The first few hours after the plane landed usually consisted of me trying not to go on a rampage.

"It's beautiful," Nadia sighed. Then she stood in front of me and gently took Lucy from me.

I craned my neck higher and looked at the building, soaking myself in history. This is why I was gone, right?

"Elena?"

Without thinking, I had Jeremy wrapped tightly in my arms.

"You're hurting me," he laughed. I picked him up and twirled in a circle. "And showing your vamp side."

"I am so sorry," I lied.

"I missed you, too."

I put him down and nestled my face in his neck, breathing deeply. "I forgot how wonderful you smell."

"Not like dinner, I hope."

"Like coal and paper and oil paints. Godiva Chocolate and rum. Books. A library. Home." I pulled back, grinning. "And leather."

"You smell all that?"

"Yeah. And I smell the cheap vodka you nicked on the plane, too."

"Whoops."

I laughed and hugged him again. "Did I really hurt you?"

"A bit, yeah," he said. When I finally let him go, he rubbed his shoulders and stretched his arms. "Where are we staying? That thing is intimidating as hell, but I don't want to lug my suitcase around."

"Depends. Do you want to walk or catch a cab?"

"We can walk?"

I shrugged. "Fifteen minutes, tops."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. Hey." I grabbed his bag from the ground and left him with the rolling suitcase, walking over. "Nadia and Greg, this is my brother, Jeremy. Jeremy, these are my neighbours, Nadia and Greg. And. The cutest little baby ever, Lucy."

"Hey."

"Nice to finally meet you, Jeremy! We've heard so much about you!" Nadia gushed.

"Same. Your descriptions don't do Lucy justice."

"Cutest. Baby. Ever."

"Hey! _Mate!_ You think you can just _walk off_?" I looked over at the irritated cab driver, stuffing my hand in my purse. I flipped through my money and shoved a handful of it at him. "This is-"

"More than enough," I said. "I completely forgot about you in the excitement of seeing my brother. My apologies. Happy belated Christmas."

"How much did you give him?"

I shrugged. "Enough." He just looked at me. "Sixty bucks." Seventy-five with the exchange rate. "You coming with us? Or are you going to continue to stare at it?" I asked.

Nadia hesitated but finally looked at Lucy. "We should probably go with you. We'll let you catch up and let Lucy warm up."

"We leave about four thirty, take a lazy stroll back here so we can find a place, five fifteen service, dinner after, this cute little place I found."

Nadia rolled her eyes but we started walking. "I don't know how your sister does it, but she always manages to find these perfect, cute little places only the locals seem to know about."

"Yeah. Go figure," Jeremy said. I just pulled him to my side, grinning.

"So. We're here for two nights before Nadia and Greg have to go back. Do you want to stay here? Go back with them? Paris? I – still have a place in Bulgaria. I think."

He raised an eyebrow. "You never told me about that one."

"Yeah, well." I hugged him again and whispered in his ear. "Khristov."

"Ah. Would we run into the little she-devil herself?"

"Uh." I glanced over at Nadia and Greg nervously. "Miss Nadia is very religious. I don't really swear around her. Or use words like that."

"I can hear you, you know."

Crap. "Crap. Sorry, Nadia."

"It's okay. You've come a long way." She smiled. "You'll be able to understand mass, this time."

"Yeah, well. I'm still working on my Italian. You don't pick up a new language in a year and a half."

"Yeah, _Sam _sure seems to be helping."

"Sam?"

"Elena's _bartender_."

I wanted to blush but didn't have the blood for it. "Andiamo alle terme romane."

"You want to go to a Roman Spa?"

I rolled my eyes. "Sam said, that's the translation for Roman Baths. So. Uh. Come si dice 'hotel' in italiano?"

"Albergo," Greg said, laughing.

"Jeez. Andiamo. Oh, I give up."

"In."

"Andiamo in albergo?"

"Is that a question or a statement?"

"Andiamo in albergo."

"There you go!"

I glanced at Jeremy and couldn't help my grin. "Not as easy as it looks."

"I bet. Spanish near killed me. And, what? You've got Italian and French and some Bulgarian?"

"You're learning Bulgarian?" Nadia asked, shocked.

"Uh. _No_. I picked up just enough so the locals didn't stab me in my sleep." Scary lady.

"What are you doing in England, anyway?"

"Growing up."

Jeremy lost his smile. "Sorry about Ric."

"Thanks." I tried not to sigh. "Me, too."

"Did he call?"

"Nope. How'd you sneak away?"

"Uh." He ran a hand through his hair as we stopped. "I kind of packed my bags and left a note."

"Oh, good Lord, I'm a bad influence." I ushered. "This is it."

"You said hotel."

"This is. York Minster Hotel."

"These are, like."

"Houses. Townhouse. Row houses. Whatever you please to call them. Come on. We have to get your key."

"Miss Saltzman."

I felt Jeremy's eyes on the back of my head. "This is my brother, Jeremy. Could we get that second key, please?"

After a little messing around, she came up with the second key and we parted from Nadia and Greg.

"_Saltzman_?"

"Yeah." I tossed his bag on the floor and flopped on the bed. "Hope you don't mind sharing a bed with me."

"_Saltzman_?"

"I couldn't exactly go prancing around as Elena Gilbert, could I?"

"You have me address your mail to Elena _Gatti._"

"Yeah. And I _go _by Gatti. Or Saltzman. Sommers, once."

"I'm sorry."

I punched a pillow with human strength. "Gah."

"Elena…"

"I _know _he's not beholden to Jenna anymore. It's been _two years_. He doesn't love her any less. Jesus. Jeremy, I-"

"I know."

He did the best thing he could.

We hugged.

-x-

"So. Tell me about Sam."

I twirled the wine in my glass, looking at the rest of my pie. "There isn't much to tell."

"Please," Nadia said. "He owns a little bar not too far from where we live. He's a gentleman. Adorable. I think Elena has a crush on him."

"Do you?" Jeremy asked, grinning. I smiled back. Jeremy knew my smile from my sad smile. "Alright. I get it." Damon, still. "Will I at least get to meet him?"

I perked up. "That means you're coming back to Italy?" He laughed again. "God, I miss you. Your laugh."

He rolled his eyes. "You only bought me a ticket here, Lane. I have three weeks to blow."

"I love you."

"Love you, too, Lane. It's boring without you. Caroline and Bonnie convinced Stefan to go to college-" I heard the implied _again_ "-with them, and Matt and Tyler, too, so they're a few hours away. His, uhm. Brother is gone, too. Most of the time, anyway." I raised an eyebrow and he knew he had to tell me later. "And Ric's too old. But I have three weeks to catch you up. What are we doing in England, anyway?"

"Sightseeing," I told him, and he knew there was more I couldn't say here. "Nadia's very religious, and Greg has a secret love of architecture. Plus, they haven't had much free time with baby. So, this is Christmas. Which… is why they're paying for dinner."

"Nice try," Jeremy said, pulling out his wallet. "Uh." He laughed. "Spot me some… pounds? Euros? I don't think they'll take American money."

"Really-" Nadia started.

"Really," Jeremy said. "Elena gets the vacation, I get the food."

I shrugged. "You can get the cabs. Speaking of which." I gave our waiter the money. "Could you call a cab? Or give us a number?"

"Five minutes," he said. "I have them on speed dial." Old school. I liked that.

Nadia and Greg got up and started to get dressed. I held a finger up to Jeremy. "Hold on one second." I walked over to the little bar. "Two shots of your best bourbon." Again, I laid more than enough money on the counter. When he faced away, I downed one.

"Sup?" Jeremy asked. My hand hesitated on the second shot before taking it, too. "Elena."

"I'm hungry," I said.

"We just-" His eyes widened. "Oh. When was the last time you ate?"

I shrugged, looking away. "Sometime last night."

"Is that… normal? And don't lie to me."

"No. I should have had something before the plane. I'm trying to hold it together."

"Elena."

"Don't."

When we got back to our room, he shrugged out of his shirt and sat down on the bed next to me. "How does this work?"

"Huh?"

"Either, you drink from me or you go out."

"Jeremy. No. Okay? Just. No."

I sighed, getting off the bed, and looked at the darkness that flooded the sky.

I tugged my dress shirt off and put on my leather jacket instead; I traded ballet flats for my hunting boots.

"I'm not good enough?" he joked. Or, tried to.

"Feeding is more of a… sexual thing. And." I scrunched my nose. "You're my brother."

"Elena…"

"Look. I've been feeding from people, trying to cause as much pain as possible whilst doing so. The last time I fed from a _willing _person, I made it feel too good. I forgot how to do in between. I can't hurt you, and I can't let you, _as my brother_, feel that with me. Just. Okay?"

"You could try. I'll be your test dummy."

"I'll make my next unwilling victim my test dummy. Don't worry," I said at the door. "I have a huge supply of blood bags at my place."

"He comes over," Jeremy said, and I didn't have to ask who he was talking about. "Once a week. On Sunday's. He just sits on the porch swing. Just stares at his hands. He's not even angry or sad or – anything. He's just – there. Defeated."

My heart felt tight and, for a moment, I thought I was human again. "Sam is… everything I could ask for. If I were human. I can't even think of him for a second. There is no one else. There never will be. It's – _him._" Jeremy nodded and I took a deep breath. "Before you leave, I'm doing all of your laundry. I will wear the clothes you go home in."

"Why?"

"It will drive him crazy." With that, I disappeared into the night.

-x-

"What are we doing in England, anyway?"

I was expecting him to talk. It was hard to fool a vampire; I knew he was awake before I went to shower. "Remember how I told you I was going to prove this whole sire bond thing is a farce?"

"Yeah?"

"That's why we're here. I've heard a few rumors about some sort of magical 'hotspot' in England. So I did a stupid google search of the top places to visit in England. Figured, might as well get the major things checked off the list. Mostly, I've been hitting natural places, like fields and water and all that. I've been to a few places, like here in York, or the Roman Baths in… Bath. But… I think witches are more likely to be drawn to nature than buildings, you know?"

"And… what are you going to do when you find this hotspot?"

"I have _no _clue." Really, I had no idea. "I just hope to get another idea. What I _think _I'm looking for is a really powerful, or really old, witch who can help me. Either tell me it's actually a thing and help me break it, or tell me it _is _a farce and how to convince people."

"How's it coming?"

I snorted and finally got up, digging through my suitcase. "Shitty. Very, very shitty. I get some… creepy vibe from that spot back home, where all the witches were executed?" He nodded when I looked up. "I'm hoping to feel that somewhere I visit."

"Makes sense."

"It's turning out to be a wild goose chase."

"Are we hitting any more of those places on this vacation?"

"Nope. And we're going home. I'll show you my little place in Italy, and I mean _little_, and then we'll go to France. If you want to meet the she-devil, you can."

"No way in _hell_."

"Then we'll skip Bulgaria and go wherever else you want."

"Seriously?"

I nodded. "Seriously. What do you have in mind?"

"Italy."

I smiled.

-x-

Less than five minutes after we got out of church, Jeremy's phone rang.

"I thought he'd call sooner, honestly," Jeremy said.

"Well." I glanced at Nadia and Greg. "This might get ugly. How about you google a restaurant or something?" They nodded and walked a few feet away.

"Hey."

"Jeremy."

"Ric."

"Where. Are. You."

He looked at me. Ric wasn't our dad, but he was pulling out his 'dad' voice and it was affecting Jeremy, even if he wouldn't admit it. "I told you. With Elena."

"You didn't _tell me_. You _left a note_."

"Ric."

"Don't start. I-"

"Ric." My voice caused him to stop. "Shut up."

"Elena?"

"I _told _you I was with her."

"Jeremy."

"Lay off," I said. "How come you weren't at our Christmas Skype call?"

"I-"

"Uh-huh. Does this have anything to do with Paige?"

"Elena-"

"If you get to be pissed about Jeremy being here, I get to be pissed that I had to hear about Paige second-hand. I can get past it if you can."

I thought he had hung up.

"Where are you?"

I looked around. "England, right now. Just outside York Minster."

"York Minster? Really?"

"Mhm," I agreed. "One more night. Then Jeremy is going to come back with me to Italy for a while." He sighed. "I'll have him back in time for school. I promise." I'm responsible, I wanted to say, but responsible people didn't run away. "We might even hit up France. Though, winter isn't the best time to visit Europe. Summer is much better."

"I'm sorry."

"Uh." I looked around. "Why?"

"For not telling you."

"Yeah, well." I swallowed. "Don't go there."

"Elena."

"Which part?" I snapped. "Are you sorry for dumping _your _doubts on Damon? About _me _leaving? About _not telling me about you and Paige_? About not even _realizing _Jeremy had left until now – over twenty four hours _after _he left?"

"All of it." I wasn't expecting that. "Come home, Elena."

"It doesn't work that way, Ric. I love Damon. Damon loves me. But you, and Stefan, and Caroline, Liz, Bonnie, Matt, Tyler – you all put the littlest _speck _of a doubt of _my love_ in Damon's head. And we all know how much he thinks he _deserves _love. Oh, no, of _course _that's not going to do anything to Damon. He's still a dick – 'Elena's ass'. There is no good in him. Elena must be imagining it. He's taking advantage of a sire bone _that doesn't even exist_. But look! I left! I'm gone! Damon didn't _want _me to leave! He didn't tell me to stay. So, again, that puts doubt in _your _head! Damon didn't _tell _her to stay? Well, she didn't ignore a direct order. She just left. That's it. It doesn't matter what Damon or Elena _wants_.

"Well _that's it_. I left. I'm _growing up_ because you think – I don't even know _what _you think!"

"Shh." Jeremy hushed me and I realized that I was starting to yell.

"You made me leave!" I hissed. "You don't want me and Damon? Well, then you don't get _me_. What I feel for him, Ric – that's _real_. I _love _him. Not a day goes _by _that I don't even _think _of him. Sometimes, I go to this leather shop. Just to smell his leather. I'm that _pathetic_. I bought one – brought it to my place in Bulgaria. The one with the fireplace? Leather and smoke and _his cologne _– but it wasn't close enough. It's not _him_. Nothing can take the place of _him_. But _no one _will ever accept us because of this 'bond'.

"If I can survive twenty years without his constant presence, _I can survive the rest of my life with Damon until you die_."

"Elena." I looked at Jeremy, and then Ric echoed him.

"Elena. You don't – you don't mean that."

"I don't? You're going to _die_ one day, Ric. _You're going to die_. Damon is forever."

"Shut up!" Jeremy said, frantically looking around.

I hissed at him, showed him my teeth. "Every time you give Damon a look – it stabs my heart. Every time you call him a dick – I want to die. Every time you call him a monster – a little part of me dies; if he's a monster, I'm a monster, too. Every time you try to guilt trip him for killing someone – I take it personally because _I kill people, too_."

"Boys with video camera, your three o'clock," he urged. "Reign in your teeth! Your eyes!"

I glanced at them, quicker than they'd be able to tell, and followed my nose to their scent. I'd take care of them after I was done with Ric, and quickly got rid of my vampire features.

"Every time you tell him I don't _really _love him – I hate you. You are the _only _parental figure I have left, Ric. And you hurt me every single time you're in the same room with Damon. _I love him_. That should be enough. Jeremy is the only one who doesn't care about the stupid fucking sire bond, whether it's real or not. Damon and Jeremy had _friendly _spats. _Jeremy doesn't judge my love for Damon_, even if it's odd.

"So I have to _go_. I have to take care of two little kids who caught my face. I have to delete their pictures. And I have to eat, or I will _kill _someone and place their death on _your _hands."

I handed Jeremy his phone before I did something stupid with it, and ran off at human speed.

I hid in an alley, and threw a handful of grey snow at the wall.

"_Fuck_." I whipped my gloves off and dug my nails into my palms, trying to focus myself with the pain. When that didn't work, I scratched at my eyes and licked the blood from under my fingernails.

I wanted to punch something.

I wanted to hurt someone.

I wanted to _kill _someone.

I was _seething_. I was angry. I was livid.

I was _starving._

I smelled Jeremy before I heard him.

"Elena."

I ran, with my full speed, in front of him, hissing. "I hate Ric with every fiber of my being," I said through my fangs. "I was working with it, I really was, until you told me about _Paige_. Then it all came rushing back, this boiling wave of pure and ugly rage and _hate_."

He held my face in his hands, rested our foreheads together. "I know." I swallowed, fangs retracting, eyes going back to normal. "I know." I relaxed against him. "I. Know." I nodded. "I'm there, too. I can only imagine the hundred times worse you're feeling."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Uh." He swallowed and pulled back enough so he could look me in the eye. "I hate to ask but, uh. What about those two boys?"

"Oh." I urged my features back to those of a vampire and breathed. Keeping my face down, hiding my eyes, I let my nose lead me through a crowd of people until they were near enough to smell without being vamped out. "I won't hurt them. I just have to delete the video and make them forget what they saw. That simple. And no. No, I don't normally compel kids."

"I believe you."

I walked over to the two boys and tapped the one holding the camera on his shoulder. "Hey. Can I see your camera?" I compelled, and he handed it over.

"Hey!"

"Shush." They both stood there, quietly, and I deleted the video and pictures and saw that they hadn't posted it to any websites yet. There were no recent outgoing texts or e-mails. "Give me your phones, please." They did that, too. "Thank you for your help. Now go find your parents, or whoever you're with, or _go home_. And forget everything you saw and did for the past half hour."

They nodded and walked off, dazed.

"That was heated," Nadia said after Jeremy led us back to them. "I – had no idea the depth of your troubles with your stepfather went." I nodded and wiped my eyes. "I figured he just didn't like your boyfriend." She looked at Greg. "My parents didn't like him, either, at first. Sometimes, I think they still don't like him, but they love him, because I do."

I swallowed. That's all I wanted.

-x-

"Jeremy?"

"Shush." Nadia elbowed me in the stomach because I was talking in church.

"Hmn?"

"Get them out of here."

"Huh?" Finally, he turned his attention on me. I was sitting rigid, face down hair creating a curtain around my face. He pulled a few pieces far enough that he could see my vampire side. "What?"

"Someone's here."

"How do you know?"

I didn't. "I just do. It's this feeling."

"It could be anyone."

"A day after telling Ric we're here? God, this was stupid."

"_Elena_."

"Is it okay if you guys walk home?" I asked. "I'm not feeling too well, all of a sudden."

"Oh. Oh, yeah, of course. I'm sorry."

"Me, too."

Outside I didn't hesitate and ran Jeremy back to our hotel, tossing him a vervain dart before flying back.

I slipped back in, climbing the pillars to hide in one of the darkened archways. Two people had taken spots where Jeremy and I had been and, hopefully, that would help with our scents.

I had no idea how Lisa did this. It was just this feeling. I let my eyes scan over the people.

And there, in the middle of the crowd, slowly turning around in circles, looking every which way, up down, and through the throngs of people, was Damon.

"Elena?"

It was only a whisper, but it made me ache to my very core. I didn't know it was a vampire. It had been almost a year and a half since I felt Damon's pull. It certainly only worked within a certain mile radius.

"Elena."

The detail of the pillars was amazing, but my fingers didn't care. I gripped whatever I could, as tightly as I could.

"I love you."

A few hot tears rolled down my face.

"Eighteen and a half years."

I did the only thing he knew how to do: I ran.

I walked back to the hotel, face down, tears still on my cheeks.

"What's wrong?" Jeremy asked when I opened the door. "Are they okay?"

"It was Damon," I said, and fell into a heap on the ground, crying. "If I went to him, I never would have left."

"Shh."

"Don't tell him. Please."

"It's okay."

But it wasn't.

* * *

AN: Feel free to point out any spelling/grammatical errors, or inconsistent timelines.

Next chapter: We meet Meredith. (Different Meredith from the TV show. I just wanted a Meredith to tie in the books. A bit.) From here on out (there on out?), Meredith will be a major main character.

Any missing scenes you'd like to see/read? Mention them in a review. If I don't have them written, odds are I will write them. Next chapter won't include Jeremy. I wanted to write him, but found him too off to write. I have random pieces from this story that just had to be taken out.


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